THE--. 



LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 



A NOVEL. 



By E.IMARLITT, 

Author of "In the Counselor's House," "Old Ma'm'selle's Secret,' 

"Gold Elsie," "The Countess Gisela," "In the 

Schilling scourt," etc., etc. 



TRANSLATED FEOM THE GERMAN BY MARY STUART SMITH. 



NEW YOBKJi 

A. L. BUHT, PUBLISHER. 



Bntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888, by 

GEORGE MUNRO, 
i the Offlct of the Librarian of Congress, Wathington, D. Q, 



Stack p-r 
Annex F I 

2-510 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES, 



CHAPTER I. 

AUNT SOPHIE had tied on her big apron and was busy 
stowing away the clothes-pegs in its ample pockets as she 
took her wash down from the lines. She chuckled while 
she stepped along under the tight- stretched ropes. Fresh- 
fallen snow what was that compared to the whiteness of 
her bleaching table-cloths and sheets? 

From time immemorial it had only been necessary to air 
the linen treasures of the honorable house of Lambert and 
Son, when forthwith there came a season of the finest 
bleaching weather. Of course there did! And why not? 
They had as good a right to a prerogative of the sort as the 
emperor had to his famous emperor's weather, thought 
Aunt Sophie, with a mischievous twinkle of her eye, 
though, for there was somebody in the house who positively 
would not listen to such blasphemies. 

Again to-day the delicious summer breeze had dried the 
rows of wet sheets to perfection, and the July sun had 
seemed to concentrate all its power upon that immense 
square yard. From over the roofs flocks of swallows shot 
into that court-yard like glittering steel arrows, their nests 
hung to the stone window-sills of the upper story in the 
eastern wing; and there was nobody there to disturb the 
little blue-coats when they settled upon the sills and en- 
gaged in their ceaseless chattering. Yes, there was not a 
creature there to disturb them by a look or startling move- 
ment of the hand for never a window of this side-building 
turned upon its hinges save for some hours in the year, 
when the rooms were aired; immediately afterward the 
large-flowered curtains fell to again, and patiently suffered 
the sun to absorb from them the last bit of coloring adher- 
ing to their rotten silk threads. 

The main building, whose front opened upon the finest 



1630310 



6 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

square in the town,, had rooms ana halls in plenty, with not 
many inmates, so that the upper floor of the eastern wing 
was not at all needed. Folks said differently, though. 
However brightly and airily arose that addition in the rear, 
and however tranquil it looked with its tall, still windows, 
yet it was the dismal scene of a struggle, a ghostly struggle, 
likely to be prolonged to all eternity. So said the people 
outside in the lanes and streets, and those inside gainsaid 
them not. And why should they? For since the year 
1795, when the lovely Mrs. Dorothy Lambert had with- 
drawn into that wing of the house to be confined, and there 
died, when had there ever been a family servant who had 
not, at least once, seen the long train of a white wrapper 
gliding through the corridor, or been forced to flatten him- 
self against the wall of the passage, half dead with fright, 
that the long, lean ghost with transparent gray gown might 
have room to pass. That was the reason, said the people, 
why nobody ever slept in that house over there. 

A breach of promise had caused this nuisance. 

Justus Lambert, the great-grandfather of the present 
head of the family, had been induced to promise his dying 
wife, Judith, most solemnly that he would give her no suc- 
cessor; this was done for the sake of her two boys, she 
would have said, but in reality it was on account of a burn- 
ing jealousy that would yield to nobody else her place by 
her surviving husband's side. But Mr. Justus was of a 
passionate nature, and none the less so was the fair ward 
who was an inmate of his house. -She had made up 
her mind not to be parted from him, let the conse- 
quences be what they would, and to wed him, whether or no, 
in spite of the jealous departed. And sure enough they 
had lived together like two turtle-doves until the day came 
when the fair young Dorothea withdrew into the east wing 
to take possession, in state, of the elegantly furnished 
lying-in chamber therein arranged for her accommodation. 
An infant daughter had been laid upon her arm, and Mr. 
Justus had announced himself as having reached the sum- 
mit of happiness. 

Bat that night, while the nurse sat watching the mother 
and child, the door of the long, cold passage leading to 
the other wing flew open, a gray shade in the shape of the 
departed Lady Judith glided in, drew aside the curtains 
of the tester, and settled down upon the sick lady 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 7 

closely enough to draw the very heart's blood from hex 
blooming life. The nurse had been paralyzed, as it were, 
in every limb, and had sat, so to speak, in an ice-house, so 
deathly cold had been the atmosphere around the specter; 
her senses had forsaken her, and not until long afterward 
had she been brought to herself by the screams of the new 
born babe. ? 

A fine Christmas-box that to be sure! The door to foe 
ice-cold passage still stood wide open, but not another 
glimpse was to be seen of that bad Lady Judith. On the 
other hand, though, there sat the Lady Dorothea bolt up- 
right in the bed, her teeth chattering, and shaking with 
violent chills, while her eyes were fixed widely upon the 
baby in its crib. Afterward she had fallen into delirium, 
and in five days more was laid in her coffin with her dead 
baby in her arms. The doctors had said that mother and 
child died of severe cold taken; the neglectful nurse must 
have fastened the door insecurely; fallen asleep and 
dreamed crazy dreams nonsense! If all this had fallen 
out in the natural course of things, whence came it that so 
often afterward the fair traitress might be seen at twilight, 
fleeing from her former sick-room, the gray fury at her 
heels, ready to overtake and strangle her in the chill em- 
brace of those long and skinny arms? 

The firm of Lambert and Son still dealt in linens at the 
close of the last century, and the oft-repeated designation, 
" the Thuringian Fugge," could not have been ill-de- 
served. 

Then its great conglomeration of houses in the market 
resembled a bee-hive, so lively had been the concourse of 
men resorting thither. Bales of linen had been heaped up 
to the very eaves of the roofs; and regularly every week 
great heavily loaded wagons went forth into the wide 
world without. Aunt Sophie was familiarly acquainted 
with all this. Not indeed that she had lived in those 
days, but in her clear head were stored up family tradi- 
tions, old entries in account-books and diaries; and often 
curious wills with an exactness, such as is rarely equaled by 
any keeper of the royal archives. 

This annual July bleaching was, for her, peculiarly a 
time for reminiscences. Then old family linen made its 
appearance on the lines not for use, though. God forbid ! 
-only that they might not turn yellow, and be laid away 



8 THE LADY WITH THE BUBIES. 

In new folds. Then the huntsmen and Amazons woven 
therein, with the mythological and biblical figures in the 
damask, might well be astonished every time to see 
how still the court-yard had grown, how utterly changed, 
so that not a word of the price of flax or the wages of 
the weavers was any longer to be heard; not a single 
loaded wagon rattled through the high-arched gate- 
way of the warehouse; and the busy hum of the looms had 
died away into utter silence. Often, indeed, there was still 
a murmuring and whispering through the yard, but that 
came from the wind blowing through the shrubbery and 
trees. Dear me! how this world does change! Only to 
think of it! Green foliage flourishing upon the very cen- 
ter of business traffic, where in those times not the tiniest 
blade of grass could have forced its way up through that 
hard bed of smooth gravel! There now, even that old 
stone pavement had to give way in the course of time! 
The somewhat sloping ground was now closely sodded; 
beautiful rose-bushes showered down their bright leaves 
upon the tender grass; a flourishing arbor of young linden- 
trees rustled its leaves in front of the western wing, the so- 
called weaving-room, and the old warehouse, which had 
shut off the yard to the north was screened from top to 
bottom by a mock orange bush. 

The linen business had long since been exchanged for a 
porcelain factory, and this was to be found outside the city 
in the adjacent village of Millbrook. 

The present head of the firm of Lambert and Son was a 
widower. He had two children; and Aunt Sophie, the last 
of a collateral branch of the family, kept house for him, in 
honor and propriety, with due diligence and wise economy. 
And the good aunt, with her huge nose and sensible brown 
eyes, denied it the most fortunate circumstance of her 
whole life that she happened to be an old maid, because in 
this way, for a little while at least, the face that looked 
from the housekeeper's room out upon the market bore the 
physiognomy of a genuine Lambert. To be sure this 
grated upon Mrs. Counsellor's ears as disagreeably as that 
other standing remark of hers about the emperor's weather; 
but Mrs. Counsellor was a very fine lady, who had been 
presented at court; and Aunt Sophie always put on a most 
innocent face, so that the differences between the two 
never amounted to & quarrel. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 9 

The father- and mother-in-law of Mrs. Lambert occu- 
pied the second story of the main building. The old gen- 
tleman had rented out his beautiful manor and fixed him- 
self for rest; but town life did not satisfy him long. He 
often left alone his wife and only son, spending much the, 
most of his time at Millbrook, in the country where the 
woods and game were accessible, since he had a standing 
invitation to occupy the roomy -hunting-lodge attached to 
his son-in-law's factory as often and" as long as he chose. 

The clock on the neighboring town-hall tower struck 
four, and with the hour for afternoon coffee the work of 
bleaching drew to an end. The clothes in the immense 
hampers had gradually heaped themselves up like huge 
snow mounds, and Aunt Sophie, last of all, was cautiously 
removing the pegs from the most precious relics of family 
linen. But suddenly she received a stab in her very 
heart. 

" A fine piece of business!" she cried in dismay, appeal- 
ing for sympathy to the old servant who was rendering her 
aid. " Just look here, Barbara! This table-cloth with 
the ' Marriage at Cana ' on it, is giving out here is a ter- 
rible rent in it!" 

" Well, I am sure it is old enough regular tinder! 
Every dog has his day, Miss Sophie!" 

" What are you saying, you naughty old Barbara! I 
know that old proverb by heart, as well as you do. Oh, 
me! the tear cuts right down through the middle of the 
face of the chief man at the feast and to think of the 
trouble I shall have darning it!" Searchingly she held up 
the rotten stuff to the light, worn thin as it was from use. 
'' An ancient heirloom it is to be sure! It was one of the 
Lady Judith's table-cloths." 

Barbara hemmed audibly, and cast a stolen glance up at 
the windows of the eastern wing of the house. " Folks 
like that, who can not rest quietly in their graves, ought 
not to have their names pronounced so loud, Miss 
Sophie!" said she with bated breath, and disapproving nod 
of the head. " Especially not when they have begun to 
walk around again just yesterday evening the coachman 
saw something white running around the corner of the 
passage. " 

" White? Then it could not have been she who weare 
a gray gown. So, ho! that fat, spruce coachman is set- 



10 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ting up for a Sunday's child, in the servant's hall, is he? 
Better tell this to his master! You will soon have his 
house in the mouth of everybody, with those idle tales of 
yours." She shrwgged her shoulders and proceeded with 
the folding up of her table-cloth. " So far as I am con- 
cerned personally, it is all one to me. It does not sound at 
all badly to hear people say: ' The white lady in Lambert's 
house.' The Lamberts are old and respectable enough 
I am sure! Can not that luxury be allowed us, just as 
well as the inmates of a castle." 

These last words were obviously not addressed to the 
maid. 

Aunt Sophie's brown eyes twinkled merrily, as she 
looked toward the linden bower in front of the weaving- 
room. There shone a pair of spectacles upon the bridge 
of Mrs. Counsellor's nose. The old lady had brought her 
parrot down for a little airing on the "green, and kept watch 
beside him for fear of the house-cat. She was embroider- 
ing, and by her side, at the well-stored garden-table, sat 
her grandchild, little Reynold Lambert, who was writing 
upon his slate. 

" I hope you do not mean that seriously, dear Sophie!" 
said the lady, whose cheeks flushed as she glanced sharply 
over the tops of her spectacles. " At least one should for- 
bear jesting about such sacred prerogatives that is now 
unseemly stricter people than I would say ' democratic. ' " 

" Oh, yes, likely enough it would strike them so!" 
laughed Aunt Sophie. " Some people there are, who 
above all things would like to set the whole world by the 
ears. But must a person be dubbed a democrat, simply 
because he does not crawl in the dust like a worm? There 
is no distinction of class among those who revisit earth in 
order to terrify living creatures, and the white lady of the 
palace must first rise from her dust heap just the same as 
great-grandfather Justus's pretty Dorothy!" 

The old lady sneered and maintained an indignant 
silence. She laid aside her embroidery frame and drew 
near to Barbara. " How is this? l)id the coachman really 
see anything in the passage last evening?" asked she with 
some eagerness. 

" Indeed he did, my lady, and he has not gotten over his 
fright yet, either. He was waxing those fine rooms up 
there until nearly dark, and afterward when he was going 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 11 

down, it seemed to him as though a door was softly opened 
in the passage behind him. My dear lady, in that eery 
passage where not a key has been turned in the door since 
I can remember! Well, to be brief cold chills ran down 
his back, and his legs seemed turned to stone ; but for all 
that he plucked up heart, stepped a little bit aside and 
shied around the corner. And lo! before his very eyes, 
gliding along that great, dark passage moved a figure,, 
slender, delicate, and White as snow from top to toe ; 

" Don't forget the black kid gloves, Barbara!" inter- 
posed Aunt Sophie. 

" Heaven preserve me, Miss Sophie, not a black thread 
did the ghost have on ! And as it whizzed around the other 
corner of the passage, it all scattered and flew away, the 
coachman said, like smoke before the wind. Ten horses 
could not pull that man again into yonder passage after 
dark. I know that much/' 

" Nor will such a monstrous request be made of so brave 
a hero evidently his place is with old women in the 
chimney-corner. Let him spin his yarns there!" said 
Aunt Sophie, half amused, half provoked, as she picked 
up a napkin to separate it from the other linen ; but the 
same instant she turned her head. ' ' Bless us, who comes 
here with such a rush! Why, Gretchen, are you crazy?" 

Through the arched gate-way of the main entrance came 
a pretty miniature landau, dashing into the court, drawn by 
a pair of lie-goats. The driver, a young girl about nine 
years old, stood erect and held the reins tightly in her 
grasp. Her round, broad-rimmed straw hat had fallen 
backward, but was still fastened to her neck by its ribbons 
and resembled a yellow halo, encircling her dark tresses 
that were fluttering wildly in the stiff breeze. 

The equipage rolled up to the linden trees beneath which 
little Reynold sat. There it halted with a powerful jerk to 
the terror of the parrot, who screeched aloud, while the 
boy slid down from his bench. 

" But, Gretchen, I say, you shall not drive my goats! I 
will not have it!" whimpered Reynold querulously, his 
pale and puny face flushing with rage. *' They are my 
goats! Papa gave them to me!" 

" I'll not do it again, indeed I will not, my precious 
pet!" asseverated his sister, springing from the carriage. 

Come now, don't be mad with me! You love me still, 



IS THE LADY WITH THE fcUBIES. 

don't yon?" The little fellow climbed up again to his seat 
on the bench, and reluctantly submitted to some ardent 
caresses upon her part. " You see John and Ben wanted 
to have their fun. too! Poor things, they had been shut 
up so long in the Millbrook stable. " 

" So you have actually driven all the way from Mill- 
brook here?" asked Mrs. Counsellor, indignation and 
alarm mingling in the tones of her subdued voice. 

" Of course I did, grandmamma! The fat coachman 
can not sit behind me in our children's carriage! Papa 
has ridden home on horseback and I was to have come in 
the big carriage with the overseer's wife; but her primp- 
ing lasted too long for me." 

" Such nonsense! And grandpapa?" 

" Oh, he! why he was standing in the yard-gate splitting 
his sides laughing, as I dashed by." 

" Yes, you and grandpapa! You are my " the old 
lady wisely swallowed the rest of her bitter speech, and 
angrily pointed her finger at the body and skirt of her 
grandchild's dress. "And how you do look! You cer- 
tainly did not drive through the town that way?" 

Little Margaret pulled at the ribbon around her neck in 
order to rid herself of her hat, and scanned with indiffer- 
ence the embroidered front width of her white dress. 

" Whortleberry stains!" she said stolidly. " It serves 

ru quite right for always making me wear white dresses! 
am always telling you that tow-linen would suit me 
best" 

Aunt Sophie laughed, and a male voice chimed in. 
Almost at the same time with the little landau, a young 
man had come into the yard, a handsome youth nineteen 
years of age, who was Mrs. Counsellor's son, and her only 
child; for she was her husband's second wife, and had been 
only the step-mother of the deceased Mrs. Lambert. The 
young man had a pile of books under his arm, and came 
from college. 

The little girl looked at him suspiciously. " You need 
not laugh now, Herbert!" she muttered with vexation, 
while she again gathered up the goats' reins in orcl't r to 
drive them to the stable. 

" That indeed ! Very well, my little lady ! But may one 
be allowed to ask how the lessons come on at school? I 
hardly suppose that your ladyship has been conning hey 



THE LADY WITH THE RtlBlES. 13 

French exercise out in the whortleberry bushes, and I 
should like to know how many blots will be put upon that 
fair copy-book this evening, when your task will have to 
be done by smoky lamplight ; 

" Not any! I shall take pains and do nicely just to 
spite you, Herbert I" 

" How often must I repeat to you, ugly child, that you 
are not to say 'Herbert' but 'Uncle!'" scolded Mrs. 
Counsellor. 

" AJ^, grandmamma, that is no go, were he ten times 
over papa's brother-in-law!" replied the little girl bluntly, 
shaking the dark curls out of her eyes, with every mark of 
impatience. " Real uncles must be old! But I know too 
well all about how Herbert drove these goats and threw 
balls and stones m at the windows. And the doctor told 
him too, not to eat any fruit, but he secretly keeps his 
pockets stuffed full of plums all the time: yes, indeed, I 
know all about him. And now, he is nothing in the world 
but an old book-worm, going along with a whole parcel of 
books under his arm. Ho, John ! "Will you not wait a 
minute?" she called out to her impatient steeds as she 
grasped the reins more firmly. 

The young man had flushed crimson upon hearing this 
outspoken, reckless criticism proceed from so childish a 
mouth. He forced a smile, however, saying from between 
his clinched teeth: " You pert little piece, what you want 
is the rod!" As he spoke he cast a shy glance across at 
the warehouse opposite. 

The little balcony that ran all along the upper story of 
that old house, in front of the window-sashes was rather 
shelving and quite arbor-like too, being covered by the 
foliage of the mock-orange. X)nly here and there room 
was left for air and light, by openings in the boughs. And 
in such a green bower, many a time might be seen the 
flashing of pale gold, as it were, and a soft, white hand 
dreamily stroking those golden tresses, or else burying itself 
in their midst. But just at this moment, all over there 
was f-.till and motionless. Mrs. Counsellor was the only one 
who had observed her son's stolen glance. She said not a 
word, but a dark frown overshadowed her brow, while she 
deliberately turned her back upon the warehouse. 

" Sophie dear, my son is right. Gretchen grows ruder 
every day!" She made this remark to Aunt Sophie, with 



14 Tflfc LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

evident irritation, at the same time laying hold of her par- 
rot's perch, in order to carry it back upstairs. " I do my 
very best whenever the child is with me; but what good 
does that do, when down here nobody does anything but 
laugh at her rough ways? Why at her age, our dear de- 
parted Fanny was already a perfect lady; from the time 
that she was a wee bit of a girl she possessed tact and style 
to an astonishing degree. What would she say if she 
could see her child growing up so wild and untamed, what 
if she heard the bold outspoken way in which that girl 
talks? I despair of making anything out of a hard-headed 
piece like that!" 

" Hard wood, Mrs. Counsellor, must be hard in the 
whittling, you know," answered Aunt Sophie with a smile 
brimful of humor. " At real unmannerliness I never 
laugh, rest easy on that score. But neither do I mean to 
fret our Gretchen's life out of her for any such cause. It 
may be true that she is not very graceful in her bows and 
courtesies: that is a matter I leave to you, for I am no 
society woman myself, and can not help you in that direc- 
tion. I shall only see to this, that the child retains her 
love of truth, and does not learn to dissemble, flatter, and 
make pretty speeches that have not a grain of honest 
meaning in them." 

Meanwhile, little Margaret, who had started up indig- 
nantly at the word " rod," as though she already felt its 
blow, with Barbara's help had succeeded in getting the car- 
riage and 'goats stabled, and Reynold was displaying hi* 
exercises in writing to his youthful uncle. 

The boy was extremely delicate-looking, with a poor, 
shriveled-up little figure, and slow, languid movements. 

"In Gretchen there is a superfluity of force that will 
epend itself!" continued Aunt Sophie. " Would to God, 
that our pale, still-life youngster there had a share of it," 
said she, furtively pointing toward the little fellow, and her 
countenance saddened. 

" Concerning human force so-called I have my own 
views, dear!" replied Mrs. Counsellor, shrugging her 
ehoulders. " With me distinguished repose supersedes 
everything! And now, only behold, we have come to that 
old subject of Reynold's weakliness if you only knew how 
much you irritate me with those everlasting prophecies of 
evil! Bless me, is he not Lambert's only hope, his jewel? 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. lj 

No, thank God, our boy is really quite healthy. The doc- 
tor declares so, and I doubt not but that in good time 
Keynold will quite match his papa in strength and 
activity!" 

This assertion seemed very rash, when one compared tho 
wretched little slip of a human being at "he garden-table 
with the man who just now rode into the court-yard. 

Mr. Lambert came from a different direction than had 
done his little daughter, namely, through the street run- 
ning back of his property, through which the wagons 
freighted with linen had been wont to pass. Of late he 
generally had come this way. 

As this figure on horseback emerged from the deep 
embrasure of the warehouse gate, its appearance was most 
imposing. Mr. Lambert was a strikingly handsome man, 
tall, slender, and black-bearded, full of fire and dignity 
both in manner and movement. 

" Here am I, papa! Full ten minutes ahead of you! 
Yes, my goats run very differently from your Lucifer, they 
just run famously!" exulted Margaret, who had come 
running out of the stable, on to the pavement at the sound 
of the horse's hoofs. 

The noise made by the falling-to of the gate had also 
brought life into the vine-clad balcony above, which wag 
just over the gate-way. A fair head became visible. Per- 
haps the green of the overhanging foliage and the wall in 
the rear, so dark from age, served as a fine foil, and gave 
double brilliance to the May-blossom freshness of that 
young creature's face; but however that may be, the 
maiden that then appeared in light summer dress was an 
apparition that could but arrest the gaze of all beholders. 

Full of curiosity, as it seemed, she looked forth from her 
leafy bower. As she stooped forward, two thick plaits fell 
over and hung down, so that the breeze caught the blue 
ribbons at their ends, and they fluttered to and fro. 

Some flowers must have lain upon the balustrade, for, at 
the quick movement made by the young girl's arm, as she 
sought its support, a few beautiful roses blew down and 
fell right in front of the horse's hoofs, down upon the 
pavement. The animal shied; but his rider patted him 
soothingly upon the neck, and rode forward into the yard. 
With a strangely stolid look, that seemed to turn neither 
to the right hand nor to the left, he took off his hat as he 



13 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

drew near. He had, however, ridden heedlessly over the 
flowers, and not even glanced up in the direction of the 
passage whence came those fragrant disturbers of the 
peace. Mr. Lambert was a proud man, and Mrs. Coun- 
sellor comprehended fully that he paid little heed to the 
dwellers within the house over yonder. 

His little daughter, on the contrary, seemed to be of a 
different mind. She ran over to the warehouse and picked 
up the flowers. " Are you making a wreath, Miss May?" 
she called up at the passage. " A few of your roses have 
fallen down; am I to throw them up or bring them up? 
Say!" 

No answer followed. The maiden had disappeared. It 
may have been that, frightened by the rearing horse, she 
had taken refuge in the interior of the house. 

Meanwhile Mr. Lambert dismounted from his horse. 
He was near enough to hear his mother-in-law say to Aunt 
Sophie, with disapproving surprise, " How comes Gretchen 
to be so intimate with those people over there?" 

*' Intimate! I know nothing of the sort. I do not be- 
lieve the child has ever entered that warehouse in her life. 
It is nothing but her good heart, Mrs. Counsellor. Gretchen 
just loves to help everybody; that is genuine politeness; 
and I would a thousand times rather see her so than like 
those people who are full of compliments on the outside 
but inwardly think all manner of evil about their neigh- 
bors. Maybe, too, the child has an eye for beauty. I am 
no better, for that matter! I confess it delights my old eyes 
to see that pretty young thing passing to and fro about 
your gallery." 

" Everybody to their taste," observed Mrs. Counsellor 
lightly; but her brow was furrowed with discontent, and a 
dark glance was directed toward her son who was stooping 
lower over Keynold's slate. "Blondes never had any at- 
traction in my eyes," she added in her ever low and sub- 
dued voice. " For that matter, I certainly find nothing to 
object to in Margaret's obligingness; on the contrary, it 
rather pleases and surprises me to find that she too can be 
polite. I am not one of ' those who inwardly think evil of 
their neighbors,' by no means, my dear. I am entirely too 
mild and Christian-like. But I do stick to my good con- 
servative views, in obedience to which certain limits must 
be observed. That young girl to be sure she may hav& 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 17 

been a governess in England, and had the advantages of a 
good education (all respect to such exertions) but I say in 
spite of all this, that girl is at last only the daughter of a 
man who works for the factory, and is entirely removed 
from our sphere. Am I not right, Baldwin?" said she, 
turning to her son-in-law, who seemed to be examining 
something wrong about bis horse's trappings. 

He hardly lifted up his head; but in secret, lightning 
flashed from his glowing eyes, sharp enough to have con- 
sumed the slender woman before him to d ust and ashes if 
it had struck her. She had to wait a little instant for his 
confirmation of her sentence; but then it came coolly and 
promptly from the handsome man's lips: " You are always 
right, mamma! Who would dare to be of a different 
opinion?" 

He pressed his hat more closely over his eyes and led his 
horse across into the stable. 



CHAPTER II. 

MEANWHILE a pretty animated discussion was going on 
under the linden trees. Margaret had laid the roses that 
she had picked up on the garden-table; only, said she, 
until Miss May should come out upon the gallery again; 
and thereupon knelt by her little brother on the bench. 

"Just look here, Margaret!" said Herbert, pointing to 
the slate. He still looked flushed, and his voice sounded 
strangely tremulous and suppressed evidently from vexa- 
tion still, thought the little girl. " Look here," repeated 
he, " and be ashamed of yourself. Reynold is almost two 
years younger than you are, and how beautiful and correct 
is his writing compared with your capitals, that are as 
coarse and stiff as if they had been written with a stick in- 
stead of a pen!" 

" But they are distinct," answered the little girl un- 
moved; " so plain, Barbara says, that she has no need to 
put on her spectacles as when she reads in her hymn-book; 
what is the use of my tormenting myself about those ridicu- 
lous flourishes?" 

" Well, one thing I know, you are an incorrigibly lazy 
.little girl!" said the young man; at the same time, as if in 



18 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

mere absence of mind, he caught up one of the roses and 
inhaled its fragrance; this he seemed to do, however, only 
with the lips. 

" Yes, I am lazy at school many a time, that is true/' 
candidly admitted the little maid; " but not in history; 
only in arithmetic, and " 

" And in the school tasks you have to do at home; as 
your master complains " 

" He, indeed! What does he know? Such an old man, 
forever taking that horrid snuff, and shut up in the school- 
room in that miserable narrow street; no sun shines in, and 
his room is as full of tobacco as a chimney is of smoke; he 
knows much about how anybody feels lying on the grass in 
the Millbrook garden, and Hold! you shall not have 
that! It is not to be cribbed like that!" said she, interrupt- 
ing herself and throwing her supple body with lightning- 
like rapidity across the surface of the table and snatching 
after the rose, which Herbert, in another fit of abstrac- 
tion, be it supposed, had just tucked away in his breast- 
pocket. 

But the usually self-contained young man was hardly to 
be recognized again at this moment. Quite pale, with eyes full 
of rage, he caught her little hand ere it had touched the 
flower and hurled it from him as if it had been a venomous 
insect. 

The child uttered a cry of pain; and Reynold too jumped 
off the bench in affright. 

" Halloa, what is to pay here?" asked Mr. Lambert, 
who had committed his horse to the care of the hostler, who 
came hurrying up, and now advanced to the table. 

" He dare not! It is as good as stealing!" burst forth 
little Margaret, not yet recovered from the shock just re- 
ceived. " The roses belonged to Miss May " 

" Well, and 

" Herbert has taken a white one and put it in his pocket; 
the very pi'ettiest one of all!" 

" Child's play!" scolded his mother. " How utterly 
out of taste are such jests, Herbert!" 

Mr. Lambert's face was crimson, as though his ride had 
driven all the blood to his head. He silently drew nearer 
to the young man and brandished the riding-whip he held 
in his hand. Gradually a supercilious, mocking smile 
curled his lip, and he eyed most disdainfully the youthful 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 19 

figure opposite him; the lightning in his glance seeming & 
if it would transfix the young man, who blushed deeply. 

" Let him alone, my little one," said Mr. Lambert to 
his daughter, finally, with assumed indifference. "Her- 
bert needs the stolen flower in school; to-morrow in the 
botany class he will have to display to his professor a speci- 
men of rosa alba." 

" Baldwin!" The young man's voice was stifled as 
though a hand was clutching at his throat. 

" >Vhat would you have, young man?" asked Mr. Lam- 
bert, turning to him with ironical assiduity. " Am I not 
right when I maintain that the finest scholar, the most anv 
bitious contestant that ever entered college could never 
entertain another thought of anything but study, study all 
trie time, especially just before his final examination is to 
be passed? Go, and do not work so immoderately! Lately 
you have grown quite hollow-eyed, and your chubby cheeks 
have lost their color; but our future minister, like every 
other minister nowadays, you know, needs nerves of steel 
and a proper modicum of iron in his blood." 

He laughed scornfully, slapped the young man upon his 
shoulder, and walked away. 

" Let me have a word with you, Baldwin!" his mother- 
in-law called after him as she once more picked up the 
perch supporting her beloved parrot, which she had set 
down again so many times. 

Mr. Lambert paused, as in duty bound, although he 
looked as impatient as if the ground burned the soles of his 
feet. He likewise relieved the lady of the bird; and mean- 
while Herbert shot past them into the house like mad; and 
the stone stairs echoed again with the wild exclamations 
he made as he rushed up to his room. 

" There, now, Herbert has been declared right!" mut- 
tered Margaret, drumming angrily upon the table with the 
palm of her hand. " I don't believe it. Papa was just 
making fun. Herbert to have to carry a rose with him to 
the professor! Stuff and nonsense!" 

She gathered together the rest of the flowers, wound her 
silk hair-ribbon around their stems, and ran to the ware- 
house in order to throw the little bouquet over into the bal- 
cony. It remained lying on the sill. Kobocly picked it 
up; not a bit of the white muslin dress was visible, still 
less were any thanks heard to proceed from the balcony in 



20 THE LADY WITH THE IIUBIES. 

that sweet, soft, girlish voice that was so pleasant to hear. 
Ill-humoredly the little girl returned to the shade of the 
lindeu-trees. 

The yard had become right quiet. Aunt Sophie and 
Barbara had taken the last of their linen down from the 
line and borne the well-filled hampers into the house; after 
the man-servant had closed the stable-door he had proceed- 
ed to attend to other business, and the quiet little boy was 
again seated on the bench, busy forming on the slate with 
enviable patience his famous capitals. 

Margaret sat down beside him with her thin, sunburned 
little hands folded in her lap; her ever-restless feet were 
dangling, while with her bright intelligent eyes she followed 
the swallows in their flight as they crossed over the roofs, 
and circled through the blue air, to vanish then underneath 
the broad eaves of the warehouse that was just facing her. 

Mean\\ hile Barbara came with her cloth and rubbed off 
the table preparatory to setting it for afternoon coffee. 
When she had finished, she covered it with a table-cloth, 
and arranged the tray with its clattering cups and saucers. 
Then she began to roll up the clothes-line. Every now 
and then she cast a look of annoyance upon the child, who 
sat there letting her eyes scan so freely and intently that 
haunted house, for to the old cook it seemed that she was 
offering a presumptuous challenge that sent cold chills 
running over her body. 

" Barbara, Barbara, turn around quick! there is some- 
body in there!" suddenly exclaimed the child, pointing, 
with her finger directly at the window of the fair Dorothea's 
former lying-in-chamber; and, so saying, she jumped off 
the bench. Involuntarily, as though moved by some ex- 
terior force, Barbara turned her head in the direction 
designated, and in her fright let the great coil of rope that 
she was winding drop from her hands. 

" Heaven knows, the curtain is shaking!" she mur- 
mured. 

" Nonsense, Barbara! If it had merely shaken, that 
would signify nothing at all; the wind could have caused 
that," said Margaret reflectively. " No, it was right 
there, in the middle;" again she pointed to the window, 
" it parted there, and somebody looked out; and yet it is 
droll, because nobody lives there, you know '* 

" For goodness' sake, child, don't be forever pointing 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 21 

Trith that finger of yours \"- and Barbara ran to seize the 
little hand and arrest its movement. She had stepped close 
up in front of the children, as though she would cover up 
their little bodies with her broad and massive figure, and 
turned her back upon the window indicated. Not for any- 
thing in the world would she have turned her eyes upon it 
again. 

" See there, Gretchen, that's what you get for your ever- 
lasting gazing about. I would have spoken to you about it 
just now; but it is always like fire and tow with you, so I 
held my tongue. For anything like yonder window over 
there folks should have no eyes." 

" Superstitious old Barbara! Aunt Sophie should only 
hear you say that!" scolded the little girl excitedly, as she 
sought to push the unwieldy old woman aside. " The 
thing must be looked into first. I want to know who it 
was. It was all over too quickly. Flash, and it was gone. 
But I believe it was grandmamma's maid; she has a very 
white forehead " 

" She?" Now it was for the scolded cook to put on a 
reflective manner. " In the first place, how came she into 
that room? Not through the key-hole, do you suppose? 
And in the second place, she would not do it, either; not 
for the world, Grefcchen. The pert thing has been doing 
just like you; she thought, too, that there was nothing in 
it, and so, evening before last, at twilight, she had her 
fright, just as the coachman did yesterday evening. You 
had better go up into that good room with the crimson hang- 
ings, where those old portraits are it is she, she with the 
red rubies in her coal-black hair; she it is! Again she is 
whisking about in the house frightening people, because 
once more there is no rest for her upon earth!" 

" Barbara, you ought not to frighten us children with 
Buch' idle tales. Aunt has told you so!" cried Margaret, 
passionately stamping her foot. " Do you not see how 
you are frightening little brother?" Soothingly, like a lit- 
tle old grandmother, she threw her arms around the neck 
of the boy, who was listening with terrified, wide-open eyes. 
" Come here, you poor little fellow, don't be afraid, and 
Jo not believe one thing that stupid old Barbara is saying! 
There are no ghosts none at all! It is all stuff and non- 
sense!" 
Just at this instant Aunt Sophis came out of the house. 



22 THE LADY WITE THE EUBIES. 

She brought the coffee with her, and placed upon the table 
a large iced pound-cake. "Why, Gretchen, child, you 
look like a quarrelsome little game-cock! What is up 
now?" asked she, while Barbara made haste out of the way 
nd pursued her clothes-liue that had rolled off to some dis- 
tance. 

" Somebody was in that room over yonder/' answered 
the little girl shortly and positively, again pointing up at 
the window. 

Aunt Sophie, who had just stuck her knife into the cake^ 
paused. She turned her head, and with a fugitive glance 
scanned the row of windows. " Up there?" asked she 
with a half smile. " You are dreaming in broad davlight. 
child." 

" No, aunt, it was a sure enough person. Just there, 
where the curtain is red, it parted. I saw the fingers, very 
white fingers that pushed it aside, and for a second, too, I 
saw a forehead with light hair " 

" The sun, Gretchen, nothing else!" remarked Aunt 
Sophie with equanimity, going on quietly with her cake- 
cutting. " At sunset all kinds of colors are reflected in 
those old weather-beaten panes of glass, and it deceives 
one. If I had the key you should go with me on the spot 
up into that room, in order to convince yourself that 
nobody is there; and then we should see who is in the 
right, you little goose. But papa has the key, and grand- 
mamma is with him just now, so that we must not disturb 
him." 

" Barbara says the lady who hangs in the red parlor 
must have looked out; who runs around the house, aunt, 
and wants to frighten people," whimpered Eeynold in a 
tone of distress. 

" Ah, indeed?" said Aunt Sophie. She laid down her 
knife, and glanced across her shoulder at the old cook, who 
was working for dear life at the rewinding of her coil of 
rope. " A pretty piece you are, Barbara; a regular old 
raven and terrifier of children! What has that poor little 
woman in the red parlor done to you that you should be 
making of her a bugbear with which to frighten her great- 
grandchildren?" 

" Ah! never you disturb yourself about any bugbear, 
Miss Sophie," replied Barbara defiantly, without looking 
away from her occupation. " Gretchen believes just as 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 23 

much as she chooses to believe. That is the mischief now- 
adays. Children come into the world so overly-wise 
already that they no longer believe in anything that they 
can not hold in their hands." She continued her winding 
with so much vim that it seemed as though she would have 
liked to tie up by the neck every one of the little infidels. 
" Men believe no longer in ghost and witch stories; soon 
they will lose faith in our Lord God too, that they will; and 
this just makes the godlessness of these days, I say, and 
Til stick to it too!" 

" You may think as you choose; but for the future you 
will not meddle with our children's beliefs. This I tell you 
once for all!" ordered Aunt Sophie severely. She gave the 
children their coffee, and laid a slice of cake on the plate 
of each; then she went to disentangle from the clothes-line 
a rose-bush whose boughs had been caught in it through 
Barbara's impatience. 

" But it was not the sun; that is certain! I'll ferret out 
whoever it is that is always whisking through the passage 
and slipping into that room !" murmured the little skeptic 
to herself as she sipped her coffee, and filled her cup with 
cake crumbs. 



CHAPTER III. 

"LET me have a word with you, Baldwin," Mrs. 
Counsellor had asked, and ever since Mr. Lambert had 
had the honor of being her son-in-law, with him all her 
requests had had the force of commands. It was so now. 
To be sure a deep furrow of displeasure was upon his brow, 
and he would have liked nothing better than to have 
twisted the green neck of the spoiled parrot, that kept 
screeching its protest against so disagreeable a bearer; but 
the lady was perfectly oblivious of all this, the more so, as 
just in the nick of time, the servant girl, coming from the 
upper story, took the creature in charge, and bore him 
aloft. 

Unsuspiciously, and gracefully then, the slight, delicate 
little lady went tripping along by her son-in-law's side. As 
she mounted the front stairs leading into the house, the 
lace strings to her cap were caught by the breeze, and the 
short train to her dark silk skirt rustled as it grazed the 
steps. Those broad, massive, sandstone steps were muob 



24 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

worn. For far more than two centuries all that had been 
conscious of joy and woe had glided up and down that 
stairway. Wedding and baptismal solemnities, balls and 
feasts, beside that last grand funeral of the dear departed 
yes, all that had filled the heart and stirred the brain of 
past generations was now dead and gone, nothing left but 
the trace of where feet had been. And now the dressy old 
lady, in her dainty little slippers mounted, step by step, in 
order to rid her bosom of a burden, when she had come to 
the top. Dissatisfaction and anxiety were portrayed on 
every feature, 

Mr. Lambert's private apartment, situated hard by the 
stairs, formed the conclusion to that long row of rooms 
running through the middle story. Behind these rooms, 
overlooking the court, lay the corridor, or hall as it waa 
usually called, by its length and immense width bearing 
testimony to the lavish expenditure of space common in 
tlie days of old. It came to an end only behind the last 
chamber, the so-called red parlor, there it circled around 
the corner of the added east wing, and contracted into the 
dark passage behind the fair Dorothy's death-chamber, 
into which scanty daylight penetrated through a little win- 
dow very high up, only at the furthest corner opposite, 
there where a few small steps led sideways down into the 
warehouse. 

In the hall stood old-fashioned cupboards most wonder- 
fully carved, and back against the wall, between the rich 
dark folding-doors opening outward from the rooms, were 
ranged chairs, whose seats and cushioned backs were 
covered with the same brocaded velvet, which one of the 
old merchants had brought with him from the Nether- 
lands. Here many a minuet had been measured, many a 
feast been served, and even to-day, it took no great stretch 
of fancy to see moving about there still that ugly Lady 
Judith in her lace nightcap, and the treacherous young 
wife with the rubies in her hair, both having lived as mis- 
tresses in this old Franconian establishment. But much, 
too, of the magnificence of his ancestors might have main- 
tained its place here and in the halls and chambers within, 
before piety had paused before the abode of the master, 
and modern luxury assumed dominion. 

It was rather a lady's boudoir than a gentleman's cham- 
ber, into which Mr. Lambert introduced his mother-in- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 25 

law. Rosewood and silk, pictures in water color, and a soft 
roseate light that came from the curtains and cushion- 
covers all combined to fashion one of those snug little 
nests, the occupant of which one would expect to be a 
beautiful young lady and indeed Mr. Lambert's deceased 
wife had been domiciled here. 

Mrs. Counsellor went up to one of the little arm-chairs 
which, half buried in lace and folds of silk, filled the deep 
window recess. In this room she was only seldom re- 
minded of the daughter who had once reigned here; she 
had become perfectly accustomed to seeing her son-in-law 
sitting there at the little desk, and using all the pretty 
conveniences with which it was furnished. A man of 
stroug passions, in his first grief after the decease of his 
young wife, he had secluded himself here, and since then 
this little chamber had been his Tusculum. 

" Ah, how charming!" exclaimed the old lady, pausing 
spell-bound before the desk, beside which she was about to 
take her seat. It was charming, too, that water-color 
painting upon the medallion on the back of a portfolio, a 
transparent lace-work of delicate ferns, and behind them, 
as though imprisoned, a bit of that mysterious wood-flower 
which sprouts up and blooms close to the ground. " An 
original idea! and how prettily executed!" added Mrs. 
Counsellor calling her eyeglasses to her assistance. " That 
spirit-like little blossom, how longingly it reaches forth 
from its little bell-flower home, after those strawberries 
exquisite really! The work of a fair female hand, Bald- 
win? Am I right?" 

" Possibly!" opined he, shrugging his shoulder with a 
quick side glance at the portfolio, while he busied himself 
straightening a picture on the wall that was hanging awry. 
" Nowadays industry is recruiting a whole army of help- 
ful forces from the world of women too " 

" Then not destined specially for you?" 

" For me?" The small nail that was to keep in place 
the crooked picture had fallen out, the tall, stately man 
stooped low to recover it from the carpet where it had 
fallen, and when he rose up, stooping had sent all the blood 
in.his body up to the head. " Dear mamma, can it possi- 
bly be that you know nothing of that mightiest of all the 
factors in our modern life, selfishness, and that you really 



26 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

imagine that anything at all is done these days in vain, 
without the least hope of advantage to be gained?" 

He said this with head still averted, as he went on ham- 
mering the nail into the wall. 

Now, for the first time, he turned his face full upon tb* 
old lady and there was a look of bitter mockery discerni- 
ble there. 

" Consider, if you please, the hands of all the fair ladies 
in our circle, and teil me which of them would be equal to 
executing such an artistic task, one requiring the greatest 
patience for a man who is no longer in the market!" 

He stepped up to the other window, while the old lady 
settled herself comfortably in her snug, soft arm-chair. 
" Well, you may be right in that!" said she smilingly, and 
in that matter of fact tone used in agreeing to an unan- 
swerable proposition that has long been an understood 
thing. " The whole town knows that our poor dear 
Fanny took with her to her grave your vow of constancy 
to her, for time and eternity. Why, they were talking 
about it at court only the evening before last. The duchess 
spoke of the time when my poor daughter was living, and 
how enviable her lot was deemed, and the duke gave it as 
his opinion that people ought not to be perpetually making 
an unfavorable contrast between the so-called ' good old 
times ' and the present; then he called to mind old Justus 
Lambert for example, a man so much respected that he 
was actually feared on account of his strictness, and yet, 
in the time of his youth he had broken a vow in the most 
glaring manner, while his great-grandson puts him to 
shame through his noble firmness." 

Mr. Lambert had vanished behind the red curtain. He 
had rested both hands upon the window-sill, and was look- 
ing away beyond the fountain in the market-square, to the 
street beyond which ascended abruptly to a great height. 
Handsome as he was, that man had a remarkable counte- 
nanc3. Pride or rather haughtiness defined in such sharp 
lines would have given a frigid, stony expression to any 
other face; but here the coursing of hot blood was too dis- 
tinctly marked for that. It caused the eyes to sparkle with 
the uncontrollable flame of passion, and the sweetest of 
smiles to play irresistibly about his lips; it caused the veins 
of his forehead to swell with torrents of fierce rage, and 
his cheeks to grow pale when anguish wrung his soul. But 



THE LADY- WITH THE Rt'BlES. 27 

now. at those last words of the old lady, Mr. Lambert 
cast down his eyes. He looked as if he had for a moment 
utterly lost both the inner and outward props of his soul, 
all his proud self-confidence, manly self-reliance and full 
consciousness of a rich possession. Like a chidden and 
mortified school-boy he stood there, with his head bowed 
low over his dark, flowing beard, and biting his lips until 
they well-nigh bled. 

'Why, Baldwin!" exclaimed the lady bending forward 
curiously, because he remained so long at the window, 
" are you not pleased that they entertain so good an 
opinion of you at court?" 

The rustling of the silk curtain drowned the deep sigh 
that involuntarily escaped him as he stepped back into the 
chamber. " The duke seems to admire this noble trait in 
others, rather than in himself he has a second wife!" 
said he bitterly. 

" For heaven's sake forbear! What induces you to make 
such a speech?" cried the old lady in quite an indignant 
tone. " Let us thank God that we are alone! I hope these 
walls have not got ears! No, no^ Baldwin, I can not un- 
derstand how you can venture to make such a criticism!" 
added she, shaking her head. " That is an entirely differ- 
ent case! The first wife was very sickly 

" Pray, mamma, do not excite yourself! Let us change 
the subject!" 

" Yes, indeed, let us change the subject," echoed she. 
" You have well said, * The tempter to be sure would never 
dare approach you. ' After Fanny, of course it would be 
quite impossible for you to entertain even a passing fancy 
for any other woman. The Duchess Fredericka on the con- 
trary was ugly and ill-natured." 

Mr. Lambert evidently interjected these words, in order 
to keep the topic of conversation upon foreign soil. 

Again she shook her head disapprovingly. " I should 
never have indulged myself in such an expression. The 
glare and distinction of high birth cast a glamour over every 
fault. As for the rest, as I said before, there is a world- 
wide difference between the two cases; no promise bound 
the duke; he was free, and perfectly justified in marrying 
again." 

So saying, she again laid herself back in her chair, gently 
shook the lace barbs of her cap out of her eyes, folded her 



28 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

hands in her lap, and looked down meditatively. " You 
can not judge at all of dilemmas of the sort, dear Baldwin. 
Fanny was your first and only love, and we joyfully gave 
away our daughter to you. And when you and she were 
betrothed, your parents wept tears of joy, and called you 
their, pride, because your heart's affections had elevated, not 
drawn you downward, as is too often the case with ties 
formed by misguided youth " here she broke off her sen- 
tence with a deep sigh, and looked down, as though revolv- 
ing some serious trouble. " God best knows what a faith- 
ful, watchful mother I have always been, certainly fully as 
much so as your parents; and yet it has fallen to my lot to 
have a son tempted to go astray. Herbert has been giving 
me indescribable anxiety of late!" 

" What, your pattern son, mamma!*' exclaimed Mr. 
Lambert. During his mother-in-law's long discourse he 
had been walking up and down all the while, mechanically 
measuring the regular intervals between the bunches of 
roses forming the pattern of the carpet upon the floor. 
Now he stood still at the opposite end of the room and 
asked the above question mockingly, across his shoulder. 

" Hem!" coughed Mrs. Counsellor, while she indignant- 
ly straightened herself up. " That he is so indeed in many 
respects still. He has a high aim." 

Yes, indeed, as I said awhile ago down in the yard, he 
wants to mount and mount until he leaves all competitors 
below out of sight, and recognizes nothing above him save 
the supreme ruler of the state." 

" Do you find any fault with this?" 

" Certainly not, provided that he is made of stuff equal 
to the strain. Just -see how many cast away their honest 
convictions, dissemble, fawn, and play the sycophant, and 
by their flatteries wheedle the authorities into giving them 
responsible posts that ought to belong of right to men of 
character and ability!" 

" You regularly brand the truest devotion and abnega- 
tion of self!" stormed the old lady. " But I ask you if 
you would have the audacity, the insolence, to oppose a 
direction coming from a superior place? I know, for my 
part, right well, that nobody better than yourself likes an 
invitation coming from the first circles, and can not rp- 
member ever having heard a contradiction of opinions pre 
vailing there, to proceed from your mouth. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 29 

Mr. Lambert kept silence at this sharp, and at all events 
well-grounded observation. He looked intently at the 
painted landscape before which he was standing, and after 
a short pause asked: " And what fault have vou to find 
with Herbert?" 

" That of a degrading flirtation!" blazed forth from the 
imbittered old lady. "Were it not to express myself in 
entirely too vulgar a manner, I should say that I could wish 
this Blanche May were in Guinea. There the man stands 
up at the hall-windows forever gazing across at that ware- 
house over yonder! And yesterday, as I was coming up 
the front-doorsteps, the breeze blew a rose-colored paper 
before my feet, and what should it be but a sonnet ad- 
dressed to ' Blanche ' I am beside myself!" 

Mr. Lambert still kept his place, with his back turned 
to his mother-in-law; but suddenly a strange impulse seized 
him he swung his clinched fist up and down, exactly as 
just now in the yard he had flourished his riding-whip in 
the air. 

" Pshaw, that milk-sop!" said he, when she became 
silent from exhaustion, as it were, and he let his hand 
drop. He drew up his magnificent figure to its full height, 
and with a military but elegant movement, turned, as she 
paused, and thus stood facing a mirror between the 
windows that reached to the top of the ceiling; it showed 
him a flushed countenance that wore a contemptuous 
smile. 

" This milk-sop is the son of a noble house, an it please 
you!" retorted his mother-in-law, lifting up a finger of 
warning. 

Mr. Lambert laughed a hard laugh. " I beg pardon, 
mamma, but with the best will I can not deem this beard- 
less son of a house however noble, dangerous and treach- 
erous!" 

" You can leave the ladies to decide that question/' said 
Mrs. Counsellor visibly nettled. " I have every reason to 
believe that Herbert in his nightly promenades beneath 
the wooden gallery, this Julia's balcony " 

"How! Does he dare do that?" burst furiously from 
Mr. Lambert, and at that moment his countenance was 
unrecognizable, so frightfully distorted by rage were its 
handsome features. 

"You use the word * dare ' in connection with this 



30 THE LADY WITS THE RUBIES. 

painter's daughter? Are you out of your senses, Bald- 
win?" cried the old lady, deeply mortified and suddenly 
rising to her feet with an almost youthful elasticity. But 
her son-in-law did not stand to meet the volley of imbit- 
tered talk that he saw would pour forth unceasingly; he 
escaped into the window embrasure there he drummed 
with his fingers upon the glass so violently that they 
rattled. 

" For heaven's sake, Baldwin, tell me what puts you 
out so?" cried Mrs. Counsellor in a somewhat moderated 
but still excited tone, and she followed him into the win- 
dow recess. 

Looking out of doors seemed once more to have brought 
him to himself. He ceased his drumming and looked down 
sideways upon the little lady. " It puzzles you, does it, 
mamma?" mockingly answered he. " Should I not be 
made indignant, when upon my own territory I will say 
in my own house such rendezvous are challenged by the 
chit that he still is. Impudence! Verily for such audacity 
the birch rod were still in place!" 

Again the flames of his wrath burst forth; but he kept 
them under. " Pshaw, let us not provoke one another, 
mamma!" said he more composedly and with a contemptu- 
ous shrug of the shoulders. That tale is too youthfully 
silly! One can easily get the better of a young cub like 
that, whose business just now is to think of nothing else in 
the world but his Latin and Greek don't you think so?" 

" There now, here we are on the same ground, if your 
expressions are rather too hard!" cried she visibly re- 
lieved. " That is just why I asked you for an interview. 
Do not think, though, that this flirtation gives me any 
uneasiness as to Herbert's future; he would never forget 
himself to that degree." 

" To marry a porcelain -painter's daughter? Good 
Heaven! His excellency, our future minister of state!" 
laughed Mr. Lambert. 

" Herbert's career seems to excite your ridicule in a very 
particular manner to-day! What is to happen, will hap- 
pen in spite of everything," said she, emphatically. " But 
laying that altogether aside, I have now in view nothing 
but his coming examination. It is our solemn duty, to 
remove everything that can m any way divert bis atten 



THE LADY W11E. THE EI'BIES. JJ 

tion, and as a disturbing influence I should put in the first 
rank that unfortunate flame in the warehouse over yonder. " 

While she spoke he had moved away from her, and was 
again pacing the floor. And now he reached out after a 
miniature volume standing on a book-shelf, opened it, and 
seemed to be examining its contents. 

The old lady trembled from vexation. Just now going 
into a wild fit of passion without any reason whatever, and 
at this time showing an unbearable superciliousness and in- 
difference amounting to impertinence. But she knew him; 
yes, at times he could be right whimsical and odd. Well, 
this time he mutt keep still until her end was gained. 

" As for the rest, I can not understand what that girl is 
doing so long in Thuringia," she continued. " It was said 
at first that she was going back to England, and had only 
come to spend her four weeks' vacation with her parents. 
Well, six weeks in the country she has already had, and no 
sign can I discover that she is making ready to depart. 
Such parents I had well-nigh said were deserving of 
chastisement. That girl is literally idle the livelong day. 
She sings and reads, dances here and there, sticking flowers 
in her red hair, while her mother gazes upon her en- 
raptured, and stands in the passage, day after day, ironing, 
in the sweat of her brow, the light summer muslins in 
which the young princess is always arraying herself so 
coquettishly, and working so much mischief. And all my 
poor boy's thoughts are fluttering about this will-o'-the- 
wisp. That girl must begone, Baldwin!" 

The leaves of the book rustled beneath his perpetually 
moving fingers. 

" Must she be put into a convent?" 

" Do, pray, forbear jesting; this is no time for it. The 
matter is a really grave one. The whither is perfectly in- 
different to me. I only say this one thing: she must leave 
our house!" 

" Our house! Whose house, ma-mma? So far as I know, 
we are here in the house Lambert, and not upon the estate 
of my father-in-law. Moreover, the painter May lives 
away over the other side of the court-yard." 

" Yes, that is just the incomprehensible part," she in- 
terposed, prudently overlooking his sharp reprimand. " I 
can not remember that the warehouse was ever inhabited 
before." 



32 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" But it is inhabited now, dear mamma," said he with 
feigned calmness, carelessly tossing the little book upon a 
table. 

She shrugged her shoulders. " Alas and it has been 
newly carpeted, too, for those people. You begin to spoil 
your workmen." 

" That man is no common workman." 

" Dear me. I am sure he paints cups and pipe-tips. 
Surely that is no reason why he should be so distinguished 
as to have an abode in his principal's own house. There is 
still room enough at Millbrook, I am sure." 

" When I engaged May last year, he made the stipula- 
tion that he might live in town, because his wife is subject 
to violent attacks of illness that make the promptest surgi- 
cal aid necessary." 

" Ah, that indeed!" She was silent for a moment, but 
then said curtly and decidedly: " Good, then there is noth- 
ing to be objected to that; and all that I ask for my satis- 
faction is nevermore to hear the sound of that coquette's 
voice echoing across the yard, nor see her figure darting in 
and out of that passage. There are boarding-houses 
enough for common people in town, I am sure." 

" You mean that I am to drive that man forth, bag and 
baggage, from his quiet asylum, because well, because he 
is so unfortunate as to have a beautiful daughter?" His 
eyes flashed as he fixed them upon the old lady, and a dan- 
gerous fire gleamed in their depths. ' ' Would not all my 
people believe that May had done something blameworthy? 
How could I treat him so? Dismiss the idea from your 
brain, mamma. I can do nothing of tho sort!" 

" But, bless my heart, something must be done! This 
thing can not go on so," cried she half in despair. " There 
is nothing left for it but to go myself to those people and 
induce them to hurry the girl's departure. No sacrifice of 
money, be it ever so considerable, ehall stand in my way." 

" Would you really do stich a thing?" Something like 
a secret dread was perceptible in the despondent tone of his 
voice. " Will you make yourself ridiculous? And above 
everything, will you compromise my dignity as principal in 
the eyes of all? Are people to think that the weal and woe 
of my employe's depend upon the direction of your pri- 
vate interests? I can not bear that;" he paused; well 
might he feel that he had spoken too harshly for sensitive 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 33 

female ears to hear. " It has always been a joy and grati- 
fication to share my home with my parents-in-law," added 
he more calmly; " and certainly your rights to unlimited 
control in your own domain have never been circumscribed; 
at least I have always given strict orders that your privi- 
leges were not to be curtailed an iota. On my side, 
though, I desire no encroachment to be made on what be- 
longs to my department. Pardon me, dear mamma, but I 
am not to be trifled with in this matter; if so, I might 
make myself very disagreeable, and that were not desirable 
for either party." 

" Compose yourself, dear son; you have excited yourself 
most unnecessarily!" coolly replied Mrs. Counsellor, with 
a lofty but deprecating movement of her hand. ' ' At last, 
though, what you are contending for so obstinately is noth- 
ing but a whim; another time you will be perfectly indiffer- 
ent as to whether this painter May and his family have a 
roof over their heads or no. I know your ways. Never 
mind though. As a matter of course, I am the one to 
yield. For the time being I shall be forced to stand per- 
petually on my guard, and not have a single peaceful 
hour/' 

' ' You may make yourself perfectly easy, mamma. You 
have in me the best of confederates," said he with a sar- 
dpnic laugh. " An end shall be put to those nightly 
promenades and bombastic sonnets; my word for it. I 
shall be upon the heels of that lovesick swain with the 
keenness of a detective; my word for that." 

The folding-door outside was noisily opened, and tripping 
steps crossed the hall. 

" May we come in, papa?" called Margaret's voice, 
while her little fingers tapped lustily at the chamber door. 

Mr. Lambert himself opened the door and admitted the 
two children. "Well, what is it? You eat up all my 
confectionery yesterday, you little ones with your sweet- 
teeth, and the candy -box is empty. " 

" Oh, thank you, papa, that is not what we want. "We 
have pound-cake down-stairs to-day. Aunt Sophie only 
wants the key the key to the back-room in the dark pas- 
sage which is always locked." 

" And where the lady from the red parlor looked out into 
the yard just now," explained Reynold further. 

" What gibberish is that you are talking? And what 

2 



34 THE LADY TTTTH THE RUBIES. 

means that silly talk about the lady from the red parlor?" 
questioned Mr. Lambert in a tone of annoyance, without, 
however, being able to conceal that his curiosity was some- 
what piqued. 

" Ah, papa, only that foolish old Barbara talks that way. 
She is so dreadfully superstitious," returned Margaret. 
And now she told of what she herself had seen at the win- 
dow, of the great red-flowered faded curtain that had sud- 
donly opened till there was a wide, dark space in the mid- 
dle; of the snow-white fingers and the forehead crowned 
with fair hair, and how Aunt Sophie stuck to it that it was 
nothing but the sun, which was not true, though; and Mr. 
Lambert turned aside, and picked up the tiny volume 
which he had thrown down, in order to return it to its place 
upon the book-shelf. 

" Undoubtedly it was the sun, you ninny, that you saw 
up at the window between the curtains. Aunt Sophie is 
quite right," said Mr. Lambert, slowly turning toward 
Margaret. " Consider for yourself, child," and smilingly 
tapping his forehead with his forefinger, he gave her a sign 
to reflect. " You have come up for the key to a locked- 
up room, and I have it, too there it hangs in the key- 
chest. Now, can a creature of flesh and blood creep 
through the chinks of a door?" 

The little girl stood there thoughtfully looking down. 
Convinced she was not, that they saw. Upon the child's 
broad open brow was plainly to be read: " I am not to be 
talked out of believing in what I have seen with my own 
eyes!" An expression of face that grandmamma particu- 
larly could not " endure." And so the father's arguments 
had no further result than to make the child say earnestly: 
" You can believe me, papa, it was right, certainly. 
Grandmamma's servant-maid/' 

Mr. Lambert hereupon laughed aloud, and Mrs. Coun- 
sellor, in spite of her vexation, could not help piping in, 
" Emma, child? Good gracious, what mad stuff works in. 
your brain, Gretchen! l)o you know, too," said she, turn- 
ing with a significant wink of the eye to her son-in-law, 
" that the people in the house are again making one's life 
a burden on account of thiit familiar, newly revived old 
legend? Reynold's mention of the lady in the red parlor 
may prove to you that the foolish creatures can not even 
hold their tongues before the children. Each one will 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 35 

have seen something, and this time not merely shadows and 
cobweb clouds. Emma, for example, declared with trem- 
bling and chattering teeth that a certain fleeting figure was 
nothing less than transparent, and that from her floating 
veil for one minute she lifted an arm so white and round," 
with a speaking glance she nodded her head expressively, 
and pressed her clasped hands to her breast. " Would 
that some direct communication between Herbert and cer- 
tain people may not be at the bottom of all this! The bare 
thought makes my blood boil!" 

"Zounds! that might be so!" assented Mr. Lambert 
with a sardonic smile, stroking his beard as he spoke. 
" That would indeed call for argus eyes and never-sleeping 
ears. As for the rest, I am sick to surfeiting of this per- 
petual gossiping among our servants; positively, it will 
bring our house into disrepute. It has always been a mis- 
take not to make use of that wing of the house; thereby 
that crazy dream of an old nurse has gained ground from 
year to year. I'll put an end to it, however! I should like 
the best in the world to put in there a couple of china- 
turners with their families from Millbrook; but then the 
people would have to be perpetually passing my doors on 
their way to the front hall, and I could not stand the noise. 
I shall make short work of it, and ensconce myself for a 
good season in the Lady Dorothy's chamber." 

" That would be a radical measure of a surety!" re- 
marked Mrs. Counsellor, smiling. 

" And a door with a lock to it, which should cut the 
passage oft' from the front hall, would be the thing too; 
then those cowards who have business up here would no 
longer have any excuse for peering around the corner and 
working upon their imaginations until they have seen phan- 
toms of their own make. I'll take the affair into consid- 
eration." 

He caught up a box of sugar-plums lying on the table. 
" Only to behold, after all, here are a few stray goodies!" 
and he filled the little hands of the children with bonbons. 
" There now, go down again. Papa has a great deal of 
writing to do." 

" And the key, papa? Have you forgotten the key?" 
asked little Margaret. " Aunt Sophie wants to come up 
right now and open the windows. She says there has been 
no rain, and the night air ought to sweep through just this 



36 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

one time; and to-morrow the rooms and the passage are 
to be scoured. " 

Mr. Lambert reddened with vexation. " To the hang- 
man with this everlasting scrubbing!" burst forth from 
him as he impatiently drew his hand through his thick 
hair. " A few days ago the front hall was fairly swimming 
in water, and the grating and scratching of the scouring- 
brushes are still beating upon my ears. I'll have none of 
it! Only go down, Gretchen, and say to your aunt that if 
she has time I would like to speak with her myself." 

The children went off, and Mrs. Counsellor too drew 
her pelerine closer about her shoulders, preparatory to leav- 
ing. She took her departure in quite a deliberate manner. 
Her oppressed heart had not been lightened of its load; 
the porcelain painter was settled more firmly than ever in 
the warehouse, and the son-in-law who had ever before been 
so courteously civil, had actually been bearish in his de- 
portment. And even now, despite his respectful bow, his 
eyes showed anything but penitence and humble disposition 
to apologize far rather secret, burning impatience to be 
left alone. Visibly annoyed, she rustled out of his pres- 
ence. 

He remained motionless in the middle of the room. Out- 
side the bolt was heard to fall in the hall -door lock; then 
the little high -heeled slippers tripped upward, step by step; 
he listened until the last echo of her retreating footsteps 
had died away upon the stairs; then, with a bound, he 
sprung to the writing-table, pressed the portfolio first to 
his heart, then to his mouth, repeatedly stroking the little 
water-color picture with his hand as though to wipe off the 
look which the old lady had fixed upon it, and locked up 
the portfolio then in one of his table-drawers. This had 
been the work of some seconds. Immediately afterward 
the chamber was empty. Instead, evening shadows soon 
came creeping in; the rose-tints prevalent there paled, and 
in the twilight the life-sized portrait of the deceased Fanny 
looking down from the wall gradually became imbued with 
life; such a strange, weird life. Gaunt and gray, with her 
great eyes full of passionate fire, it seemed as if the very 
next minute she would pick up her gray satin train and 
step down upon the carpet to seek her revenge as furiously 
as the Lady Judith had done before her. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 37 



CHAPTER IV. 

IN the dwelling-rooms below the labor of bleaching-day 
nad come to a happy conclusion. Barbara was already 
moving about again in her shining, roomy kitchen, and pre- 
paring the evening meal. The roast of veal was punctually 
basted, the salad and compote ready to serve; nevertheless, 
matters were not proceeding so placidly there as they might 
have done. The kitchen utensils rattled portentously one 
against the other, potatoes rolled oft' the dresser on to the 
floor, and the door to the baker slammed as it was opened 
and shut just as though its hinges would burst. 

Spinster Barbara was in her grimmest of moods. Again 
had Aunt Sophie been lecturing her in the most exemplary 
manner because she had alarmed the washer- women so 
much with her graphic description of the wabbling curtain 
that they declined to do the scouring in that haunted wing 
of the house. So Barbara had not only had the fright to 
stand, but a scold into the bargain. Things had come to 
a pretty pass when an old servant had to be treated in this 
way, who, if needful, would have shed her blood any day 
for the Lambert family Miss Sophie, most specially, be it 
observed. Were they really so stone blind, so besotted with 
levity and unbelief, that they did not see misfortune already 
hovering over their house, heavy and black as a hail- 
cloud? Had it not signified death and destruction every 
single time, when those spirits had been seen running to 
and fro in that dark passage? Only let them take a walk 
through the town yes, indeed; they could go from house 
to house, and in the ladies' parlors as well as among 
the women at the wash-trough, everywhere they would 
be sure to hear the croaking over the ghost in Lam- 
bert's house; things enough to make one's hair stand on 
end. But there sat " somebody " now, unconcernedly stitch- 
ing away at the sitting-room window, trying to vamp up 
the face of that master of the feast at Cana, as if the fate 
of the whole world depended upon that old table-cloth, and 
as if there were nothing but sunshine in the house. Well, 
let them go on. Come it will, steady and sure. And the 
"kitchen Cassandra broke off in the midst of her monologue 



38 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

and jerked at a great earthen vessel on the baker, in ordei 
to swallow down at a gulp the ill-humor she had been in 
the whole afternoon. 

As for the rest, the " somebody " at the sitting-room 
window was not in such a blissful state of content after 
all; for it was a hard task even for Aunt Sophie's skillful 
fingers to restore the features of that master of the feast to 
its original lineaments, without letting the darn be seen. 
And neither was Margaret feeling altogether comfortable 
at the other window. The whortleberry stains had been 
withdrawn from the offended eye, by means of a clean 
apron ; then Aunt Sophie had seized her little niece by the 
shoulders, and in a very energetic manner pointed to the 
big table in the bow-window. 

" There now, set to work upon your school-tasks! And 
recollect, no blots, Gretchen!" she had said. 

That meant, sitting still within four thick walls, and 
clasping the pen-holder firmly, so that it should make 
no eccentric dashes upon the clean white paper.- Up above 
in the evening sky, the heaped-up clouds were tinged with 
roseate hues; the window stood open, and from the steep 
street facing it streamed delicious fragrance from sweet 
linden-tree blossoms; they came through the tower-gate of 
the city-wall, to which the street up there led, and over the 
blackened old walls themselves, behind which ran the gor- 
geous Linden Avenue. 

And from the market-place resounded bustle and stir on 
every side. Apprentice-boys went whistling along with 
huge stone flasks in their hands to fetch their master's 
evening draught of beer; from all streets came girls and 
women with wooden buckets to the market pump, and the 
maids held tin colanders beneath the spout of the pump, 
and let the fresh, sparkling water rush out over their green 
beet-salad it was so pretty, nobody could help taking an- 
other look. And under the window, two little beggar-girls 
nodded in passing by. Margaret bent forward, felt in her 
pocket, and while they held up their little aprons, she threw 
out to them the bonbons which she had got from her 
papa. 

" That is right, Gretchen!" pronounced Aunt Sophie. 
" You have been eating entirely too many sweets of late, 
and it pleases the children." 

" I do not give away my good things," said Eeynold/* 



THE LADY WITH THE RrBIES. 39 

who was erecting a tower out of his building-blocks. "I 
put them away for myself. Barbara is always saying to 
everything: * Who knows but one can use it again!' " 

" Horrors! the merchant oozes out at every pore of that 
fellow!" laughed Aunt Soplrie, and diligently she went on 
with her darning. 

Yes, their aunt was right, they had been eating en- 
tirely too many sweets of late, those two children! That 
sweet stuff was no longer relished by them. How much 
papa had changed. Formerly they had been accustomed to 
stay up in his room, for hours at a time; he used to let 
them ride upon his back, had shown them pictures and ex- 
plained their meaning, told them pretty stories and made 
them paper-boats, and now? Now he ran up and down 
the room, whenever they came; often too he made faces 
and said roughly that they disturbed him, and he could not 
have them there. Those pretty paper boats were no 
longer to be thought of, any more than the telling of 
pretty fairy-tales and true stories papa preferred talking 
to himself, they could not understand about what, for it 
was mere muttering. Many a time, too, he would pass 
both hands through his hair, and stamp his foot, seeming 
not to remember that the children were there; and then 
when he did bethink himself, he would quickly stuff their 
hands and pockets full of sweet things, and thrust them 
out of the door because he had writing to do, ever so much 
writing to do. Yes, that miserable writing, it was just for 
that that he could not stand them! And after all these 
depressing reflections with their hateful conclusion, the pen 
was wrathfully dipped into the ink-stand, and lo! there 
was the blackest of blots on the paper! 

" You poor unfortunate child!" scolded Aunt Sophie, 
Hurrying over to her as fast as she could. The blotting- 
paper was at hand, but on searching for the wasing-knife, 
(Iretchen had to confess humbly that her master had taken 
away her knife, because she had been caught whittling the 
school-desk during the long, tedious arithmetic hour. And 
ere Aunt Sophie could give vent to her well-grounded in- 
dignation, the little girl was already outside the door, gone 
'' to borrow a penknife from papa." 

A few seconds later, she stood with downcast counte- 
nance in front of the room above stairs. The door was 
locked; there was no key in it, and through the key-hole 



40 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

she could see that the chair before the writing-table stood 
empty. Yes, what could be the meaning of this? So it 
was not true after all, what papa had said about having so 
much writing to do. He was not writing at all, he was 
not so much as at home! The little girl cast her eyes 
around the wide, vast entrance-hall. It was so familiar to 
her, and yet at this moment so wonderfully new and differ- 
ent. How often she had romped and played about here 
with Reynold; but she could not remember ever having 
been up here alone before. 

Now it was somewhat dusky, it is true, but so solemn, 
so delightfully quiet in this hall. Through its lofty win- 
dows you overlooked the court-yard, and far away over that 
snug, neat-looking warehouse, out into the green, bloom- 
ing world beyond. Upon the beinifets stood a quantity of 
glittering cut-glass, and the chairs, cushioned with yellow 
velvet brocade, had on their dark oak-wood backs carvings 
of queer sorts of birds among tulips and long-stemmed 
foliage. Ink-blots and penknives were totally forgotten, 
that self-willed young fawn with her reckless but truthful, 
candid nature, let her bold glance wander freely from 
chair to chair, passed her hand carelessly over the faded 
velvet, and dreamed herself into a wonderful world of im- 
agination that was disturbed by no sound from without. 

The last chair stood in the corner quite near to the door 
that led into the red parlor, and thence one looked 
obliquely across into the dark passage in the rear of Mrs. 
Dorothea's death-chamber. This too was familiar ground 
to her, and had never had any terrors for her mind. Just 
at this moment its opposite end was illumined by the re- 
flection from one of the last rosy clouds of sunset, peeping 
into the little window set so high up in the wall. Reynold, 
indeed, had always stood consistently at the entrance of the 
passage, and never trusted himself one step nearer; but 
she had ever gone through its whole length, up to the 
li-ttle stairs that led sideways down to the ground-floor of 
the warehouse. On one side, beautifully paneled cham- 
ber doors broke the uniform flatness of the wall's surface, 
and against the back wall double-doored clothes-presses 
stood furnished with brass knobs. 

Aunt Sophie, once upon a time, had opened and aired 
them, giving Margaret the opportimity for a peep inside. 
There hung one costly bright-colored brocade robe after 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 41 

the other, some of them also heavily embroidered with silk 
and gold they were only what the ladies of the Lambert 
family had worn upon state occasions. Mrs. Judith's 
bridal dress, too, with her bridal shoes regular monsters 
of slippers they were had been religiously preserved here. 
She had been the only daughter and heiress of a distin- 
guished and wealthy house, and a considerable part of the 
Lambert estate, indeed, had come from her dowry. Little 
Margaret did not know this, she would not have had any 
comprehension of the subject even had it been told her, 
often though she had rattled at the press-doors for the 
sake of hearing the mysterious noise made when the stiff 
silks jostled each other. 

Now, for once, she was here all by herself. Little 
brother was not here to pull her back by clutching at her 
frock, and worrying her with his apprehensive cries. She 
dived deeper into the passage, and was about to stop in 
front of one of the presses, when she plainly heard a noise, 
as though somebody was turning a door-knob quite near 
to her. The little girl hearkened in pleased surprise, drew 
up her shoulders, chuckled to herself, and slipped into the 
dark recess at the side of the press, whence she could see 
the door which was diagonally across the way. Whew! 
how Aunt Sophie would open her eyes when she heard that 
it had not been the sun after all! And Gretchen would be 
proved to have been right in saying it was Emma, and let 
her pretend to be frightened ten times over, it was nobody 
but she hiding in that room! A proper scare would not 
hurt her at all, no! serve her right! 

At this instant the door opened noiselessly, and from 
behind it a small foot stepped from the elevated threshold 
down upon the plank floor of the passage; then something 
white gleamed through the narrow opening of the door, 
for it was only slightly ajar. Nothing was to be seen, 
however, of the chamber-maid's white bodice and jaunty 
apron, nothing of her coquettish flounces, a close veil fell 
down from the top of this person's head, enveloping her 
whole figure, and its lace trailed after her upon the floor. 
But, for all this, it was Emma who was playing a trick. 
She had such a small foot, and always wore neat boots 
with high heels and ribbon rosettes. Now for it! 

Here was famous fun ! 

With the agility of a kitten, the child bounded from, her 



42 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

hiding-place, flew after the retreating figure, with the 
whole weight of her little body threw herself upon it from 
behind, and embraced it with both her arms; in so doing 
her little right hand through an opening in the veil caught 
in the waves of a long braid of hair that, unplaited, fell 
over the hips she grasped hold of it, and to punish such 
a silly prank, pulled the hair so hard that the head to 
which it belonged was drawn far back over the neck. 

A shriek of dismay, followed by a piteous wail, re- 
eounded through the passage. What then happened came 
about with such lightning-like rapidity, such unexpected- 
ness, that the little one could never, even later, give any 
clear account of it. She felt herself seized and shaken, 
until hearing and sight forsook her, her little body flew 
like a ball almost to the entrance of the corridor, and then 
she fell to the ground. 

She remained lying, stupefied, as it were, with closed 
eyes, and when finally she lifted her lids, there stood her 
father by her, looking down upon her. But she would 
hardly have known him, she shrunk from him in horror, 
and involuntarily closed her eyes again, feeling instinct- 
ively that something dreadful must follow; for he looked 
as if he knew not whether to throttle or trample upon 
her. 

" Stand up! What are you doing here?" he blazed 
forth in a voice hardly to be recognized, while he took hold 
of her with a rough grip, and stood her upon her feet. 

She was silent; the shock of such an unheard-of thing aa 
that cruel treatment sealed her lips. 

" Did you not hear me, Gretchen?" asked he with a 
greater semblance of self-control. ''' I want to know what 
brought you here?" 

' "At first I wanted to go to you, papa, but the door was 
locked, and you were not at home." 

" Foolishness/' scolded he, driving her on before him. 
" The door was not locked I tell you, you were only awk- 
ward about opening it! I was here in the red parlor " 
he pointed to the door, toward which he was shoving the 
little girl " when I heard your scream." 

Margaret planted her feet firmly upon the floor so that 
Mr. Lambert was obliged to stand still too, and turned her 
face toward him. " I did not scream, papa/' said she, 
with wide-open, astonished eyes. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 43 

" If you did not, who did then? You will not pretend 
to me that anybody beside yourself has been up here?" 
He had turned quite red in the face, as was ever the case 
when he was angry and out of patience, and his eyes 
flashed at her in a threatening manner. 

Did he mean that she had spoken falsely! Every drop 
in the child's body boiled, for she was truth' itself. 

"I make no pretense, papa, I am telling the truth!" 
asserted she courageously, meeting without flinching his 
withering gaze. " You may depend upon it that some- 
body was up here ! It was a girl ! she came out of that 
room, you know where I saw the forehead and light hair 
at the window. Yes, she came out from there and had on 
shoes with ribbon rosettes, and as she ran off I heard how 
her heels clattered on the plank floor. " 

" Are you mad?" With one push, he turned her back 
toward the passage. Meanwhile the crimson-tipped even- 
ing clouds had sailed away, and through that lofty little 
window there only a dusky sky looked in, gray twilight 
began to fill the whole corridor. 

" Do you see anything more now, Gretchen?" asked 
he, standing behind her, and with both his hands he pressed 
heavily upon the child's shoulders. " No! Then hear 
reason, child! Through that entrance-hall the supposed 
maiden could not have escaped, for we ourselves would 
have blocked up her way; the door, as we see here is locked, 
as I know best who have its keys; but do you believe that 
anybody could have flown through that window, the only 
other way left for one to escape?" 

Apparently tranquilized, he took her by the hand and 
led her to one of the hall windows. He drew out his 
pocket handkerchief, and wiped away from her face the 
tears that had been forced from her by fright and grief. 
Suddenly his glance melted into one of tender compassion. 

' ' Do you see, now, what a regular little simpleton you 
have been?" asked he, smiling, at the same time bending 
low over her, so as to look her in the eyes. 

Passionately she flung her little arms around his neck, 
" I love you so much. Oh! so much, papa!" exclaimed 
she, with all the fervor of a warm, innocent child's heart, 
pressing her small, sunburned face against his cheek. 
" But you must not think that I would tell a story. I did 
uot scream just now, it was she! I thought it was Emma, 



44 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

and wanted to frighten her for her foolish trick. But it 
just occurs to me Emma has not such long hair, and my 
hand smells now of attar of roses, because I caught hold 
of her plait, and her whole person smelled of the sweetest 
roses. It could not have been Emma then, papa. Cer- 
tainly, I know that nobody can fly through that little win- 
dow; but maybe the door was open to the little steps, you 
know, the basement to the warehouse." 

Already, rising up impatiently, he had loosened her 
arms from his neck, and now he interrupted her with a 
discordant laugh; but in spite of this laugh he suddenly 
looked so pale and so furiously angry that the child timidly 
drew back into the window corner. 

" You are an obstinate, hard-headed creature!" raged 
he, his brow growing darker and darker. " Grandmam- 
ma is right when she says you need proper discipline. To 
carry out your own will you concoct the most nonsensical 
stuff. Who do you think would prowl about in an old 
trash-room, full of rats and mice, for the sake merely of 
teasing a little bit of a girl like you? But I see how it is, 
you are entirely too much in the parlor with company, and 
have had your head stuffed full of old nursery tales and 
ghost-stories, and then, in broad daylight you dream of 
impossibilities. Moreover, you are as wild as a deer, and 
Aunt Sophie is much too gentle and yielding. Long ago 
your grandmamma begged me to put an end to the mat- 
ter, and now it shall be done, and without delay! A few 
years under the charge of strangers will make you tame 
and presentable!" 

" I to be sent off!''' shrieked the child. 

" For a few years only, Gretchen," said he more mildly. 
"Be reasonable! I cannot educate you: grandmamma's 
nerves are entirely too unsteady to stand constant associa- 
tion with a nature so unruly as yours, and Aunt Sophie 
well, the whole of the housekeeping rests upon her, and she 
can not attend to you so particularly as is needful." 

" Don't do it, papa!" urged she with a positive deter- 
mination of spirit, almost unnatural in a child. " It will 
do no good at all. I'll come back again!" 

" We shall see about that." 

"Ah! you have no idea how fast I can run. Do you 
remember how you had given away our Wolf to a gentle- 
man in Leipsic, and how, early one morning soon after- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 45 

ward, the good old dog lay outside of our front door, tired 
to death, and outrageously hungry? The poor fellow had 
got homesick, broken his chain, and run away. I should 
do iust the same!' 7 

A heart-rending smile flitted across her quivering lips. 

" I believe you, you are self-willed enough for anything! 
But there is nothing left for you to do, but submit; short 
work is made of such refractory little wretches as your- 
self!' 7 said he sternly. 

After he had finished speaking he turned off, and looked 
apparently through the window down into the yard; in 
fact, however, his glance was furtively scanning the little 
face on which was now mirrored a fearful inward struggle, 
and, as if driven by an irresistible impulse, he abruptly 
stooped over again, and with his hand gently stroked the 
child's soft cheeks, that had suddenly become suffused 
with genuine fever heat. 

" Come now, be my good little girl!" said he, coaxiugly. 
"I'll go with you myself we shall travel together. And 
you shall have beautiful clothes, just like our little prin- 



" Oh. please, papa, give them to some other little girl!'' 
suggested the child sadly. " My things are always spotted 
and stained the very first thing. Barbara is always say- 
ing, ' It is a perfect waste of good materials to put them on 
that tomboy/ and she is right too. Besides, I do not 
want to be like those little princesses in the palace; 77 here 
she tossed back her head defiantly, and ceased jerking nerv- 
ously at her fingers. " I can not bear them, because 
grandmamma is always bowing down so before them. 77 

A sarcastic smile flitted across Mr. Lambert's face; 
nevertheless, he said in a severe tone: "You see, Gret- 
chen, it is just this which so often throws your grandmoth- 
er into despair. You are an impolite little thing, and have 
the most miserable manners; you put us all to the blush. 
It is high time for you to be sent away!' 7 

The little girl opened wide her tear-dimmed eyes and 
gave him a speaking glance. 

" Did my mamma have to go away, too, when she was a 
little child?" asked she, vainly struggling with her sobs. 

His countenance became darkly overshadowed. " Your 
mamma was always a very polite, docile little girl, and 
there was no need to send her away. 77 He said this in a 



4C THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

tone as subdued as if, besides himself and Margaret, some 
one else was listening in the entrance-hall before whom he 
feared to raise his voice. 

" I only wisli she were here, poor mamma! I know she 
would rather take Eeynold up in her lap than me, but 
then nobody would have ordered me away. A mamma is 
much better than a grandmamma! When grandmamma 
goes to the springs she is delighted, and hardly stops to 
say good-bye. She does not know how a child loves every- 
thing and everybody, papa, our house too, oh! and Mill- 
brook " she stopped as though her little heart would 
break, at the bare thought of separation. With her head 
pressed close up to the window-pane she looked up plead^ 
ingly into the face of the stately man, who let his fingers 
play lightly upon the shelf in front of him, and was evi- 
dently torn by contending emotions. 

He made no answer to his little daughter's eloquent 
lament. For quite a while his gaze was riveted aimlessly 
upon the broad landscape outside, and when at last he 
lowered his eyes, he gave a sudden start and his fingers 
ceased their play. Papa was shocked, about what then? 
Far or near there was nothing to be seen. The sun had 
long since set; not a creature was astir in the fields below; 
not a swallow was any longer to be seen flying in and out; 
the pigeons too, that all day long were fluttering about the 
warehouse roof, had sought repose as well, and in the quiet 
passage beneath the overarching boughs of the mock- 
orange stood only Blanche May, as she had done every 
evening since she had come from England. 

But this time the child had no longer any eyes for the 
beautiful, fair face, that in gentle radiance shone like soft 
moonlight from its shrines of dark shrubbery she only 
saw that her papa was greatly troubled, and that, groan- 
ing, he put both -hands to his temples, and pressed them as 
though his brain threatened to burst. 

The little girl drew fondly up to his side, looking up at 
him with yet more urgent entreaty in her eyes: " Do 
you love me, papa?" 

" Yes, Gretchen." But he did not look at her, he con- 
tinued to stare at the self -same spot. 

" Just as much as you do Reynold? Is that so, papa?" 

"Well, yes, child." 

" Oh, I am so glad! Then you will let me stay iiere! 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 47 

Who would there be, then, to play with little brother, 
who would be his horse, if I were gone? The other chil- 
dren will not do it because he strikes so hard with the whip. 
Please, papa, say you were not in earnest about that travel- 
ing off? You were only threatening me, because I am 
such a wild cat. But I will be better now, I will be polite, 
too, to the little princesses. Please say I am to stay with 
you, and all the rest. Papa, do you not hear?" 

Mr. Lambert shivered at the touch of the little hand 
shaking his arm, starting up as out of a torturing dream. 
" Good Heaven! child, do not torment me any more 
with your questions. It is enough to drive one mad!" 
stormed he at the startled child. He rooted in his hair 
with both hands, pressed them against his forehead re- 
peatedly, and walked up and down a few times with dis- 
ordered mien. 

It might have been the monotonous tone of her questions 
which had irritated him by their urgent repetition; their 
sense he seemed to take in only by reflection, after he had 
become cooler. ' ' You have taken up quite a false idea, 
Gretcheu," said he, in a milder tone, finally standing still. 
" There, where I shall take you, you will have a number of 
merry playmates, little girls of your size, who love each 
other as sisters. I know many a child who has wept bit- 
terly when she had to come home again. As for the rest, 
it has long been a settled matter between your grandmam- 
ma and myself that you should be educated at some female 
seminary the only question was as to the time of its 
adoption. I have made up my mind now, and there is no 
more to be said. It is best so, and I shall go directly to 
Aunt Sophie to make with her the needed arrangements." 

After he had thus spoken, he went toward the hall- 
door. " Come with me, Gretchen! You can not stay up 
here!" he called out to her, seeing that she kept her place, 
remaining motionless in the window recess. She crossed 
the hall now, slowly, with bowed head. He waited until 
she had crossed the threshold before him, then turned the 
key in the lock, drew it out, and went down-stairs. 



48 THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 



CHAPTER V. 

MR. LAMBERT did not trouble himself any further as to 
whether the little one followed him. He had been long 
below, and she had heard him enter the sitting-room while 
she still stood at the head of the stairs. With her hands 
resting on the balusters,, she slid down slowly, a step at a 
time. The sitting-room door had been left open, and 
through it came the sound of Mr. Lambert's strong full- 
toned voice, and on getting down, Margaret heard him tell 
Aunt Sophie of her loud scream, running in the corridor 
of the east wing, of her seeing fancied apparitions by broad 
daylight, and of his having been in the red parlor. Ho 
stuck to it that the child had merely fancied seeing some- 
body in the dark passage, that the " old-wives' gossip " she 
had listened to in the drawing-room was to blame for all 
this, and so, Margaret must be sent off forthwith to 
boarding-school, where she would get rid of all these im- 
pressions, and for that matter be taught to have better 
manners and become more maidenly. 

With a soft tread the little girl went past the door. She 
cast a shy glance into the room. Her little brother had 
ceased his tower-building and was listening with wide-open 
mouth, and Aunt Sophie's dear, merry face was right 
pale and sad; she was pressing her clasped hands to her 
breast, but not a word did she speak " because it would do 
no good," thought the little girl, as she slipped by; for 
just let papa and grandmamma agree together that a thing 
was to be done, and neither prayers nor entreaties helped 
one bit, grandmamma would have her way. 

Only one more person had any power, when he put in, 
blustering and storming dreadfully, and that was grand- 
papa at Millbrook. He would help, she knew! He would 
not let them drag away his little Margaret, but the least of 
all into ' ' that great bird-cage, where they must all whistle 
in one key," as he had said every time that grandmamma 
had hinted at a girl's boarding-school for her. Yes, he 
would help ! What would they do then, when he should 
come down with his great knuckles upon the table, and say 
in his earnest voice : "Desist, Fraiicesca! I will have it 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 49 

BO, and I am master here!" Yes, if she could only get to 
Millbrook there would be no more danger! 

She ran out into the yard in order to get the goats; but 
the man-servant had locked the doors, and anyway that 
would make too much noise, for the carriage rattled; 
then somebody would come and shut the gate in her face, 
and she would have to stay. The only thing to be done 
now, was to depend upon her own two feet and run out. 
As she went along she had picked up her hat, that was still 
lying on the garden-table; she tied its ribbons under her 
chin, and set off on her journey. 

Nobody had seen the child as she passed through the 
gate- way of the warehouse and slipped out upon the street. 
There was not a human being in the yard ; Blanche May, 
too, had again forsaken the balcony. And outside, too, 
not a creature was stirring; the people had not yet come 
out to sit before their doors, the evening not being suffi- 
ciently advanced for that; only a few little ragamuffins 
were swimming paper boats in the channel of the narrow 
little branch that cut the street in the middle. " They 
are having a good time," thought the little one, and she 
marched over the small bridge into the next alley; then 
she came to a break in the town-wall, whence ran a foot- 
path through the fields, and up a low hill to Millbrook. 
To be sure it made a tolerably wide circuit, and was soli- 
tary; but she knew it and struck into it now over there 
in the public road clouds of dust were whirling, whenever 
there came a puff of wind, as she had experienced this 
afternoon, when she had been powdered thickly by it, as 
ghe drove along in her little carriage. 

Ah, yes, just this afternoon how happy she had been! 
She could have shouted with delight, as the goats had 
rushed with her, out of the Millbrook gate. Grandpapa 
had laughed, and shouted " Hurrah" after her, and the 
village children, her sworn friends, had run with her a piece 
of the way, and the boys had said to one another: " Can 
not she drive, though?" 

But now she had come again to beg grandpapa to inter- 
cede for her. Oh! if he would only keep her out here for 
good and all! She would have gone cheerfully enough to 
the village school. Grandmamma too, never came out 
there; she always said that she could not endure the noise 
of the factory, and grandpapa laughed every time he 



50 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 



thought about it; and he stayed out there because he could 
not bear to hear her parrot scream. 

While this medley was coursing through the child's ex- 
cited brain, her little feet were trudging forward in the 
sturdiest manner. For a long stretch of the way it went 
through waving fields of grain, and there the little girl felt 
somewhat oppressed in spirit; since she and Aunt Sophie 
had come that path, the green walls on either hand had 
grown so very high, and changed to a pale yellow. Only 
a short bit of the winding path could be seen at any one 
time before her, so that this tiny human being was, as it 
were, boxed up in the wheat-field, and the beetle that 
spread out his shining blue wings and lightly buzzed past, 
and the gay cockle that stuck its head out above the grain, 
striving to get a peep out into the world, they had it better 
than she. And there was a whispering overhead it seemed, 
and it sounded as if a trained skirt were softly sweeping by, 
until she felt afraid to look up; but " fear does no good, 
and there is a natural cause for everything that happens in 
the world," Aunt Sophie always said, and therefore it 
could not be that any person was light enough to be trip- 

Sing along over the surface of the waving wheat-field, 
"o, it was only the evening breeze murmuring as it passed 
by and brushing one nodding stalk against the other. 

And now, too, the narrow lane came to an end; her way 
led over potatoes and beet-beds, then over grass turf, up 
the hill which was crowned by a pretty grove, the so-called 
Millbrook woods; beyond that lay the village. 

Well, it was still light enough for the child to see the 
great arbutus bushes, with their white blossoms and red 
fruit, on the edge of the woods, between the trees; but this 
time she had no time for stopping to pluck and eat; in 
breathless haste had she sped up the hill, her little heart 
was hammering in her breast, and her head glowed until it 
felt heavy like lead. 

Now, it was cool in grandpapa's room; there stood the 
great sofa with its soft cushions, where he always took his 
afternoon nap, and there, too, the child always rested when 
she had run herself tired. Only that little bit of a way be- 
hind the village, then all would be well! The capacious 
factory-yard lay there silent and vacant, the workmen hav- 
ing long since stopped work; and through the adjoining 
garden with its beautifully laid off grounds, and the clear 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 51 

limpid lake, in which the pavilion was mirrored, there was 
no other sign of life than the soft rustling of the mighty 
tree-tops, beneath which it was already quite dark. Not 
even did grandpapa's spaniel Friedlin bark, and bound to 
meet the child; the threshold, his favorite lounging-place, 
was empty, the doors were shut too yes, they even proved 
to be fast locked, and to her repeated ringing no sign of 
response was given. 

In helpless anguish the child stood before the silent house. 
Grandpapa was not there. Never, never would this have 
occurred to her, it was such a matter of course that he 
should have been at home when she came. She went all 
around the house; had one of the windows in the lower 
story stood open (as she had so often done before in sport), 
she would have climbed up and jumped over the window- 
frame into the interior; but the shutters were all fastened 
down tight, there was nothing to be done. 

She came very near crying, but bravely gulped down her 
tears. Perhaps grandpapa had gone to see the superintend- 
ent, who lived just a little way off, in the factory. But 
in the yard a young stable-maid said to her that the super- 
intendent and his family had driven to town in the mas- 
ter's carriage, to be present at a nuptial-eve; but as for 
Mr. Counsellor, she had seen him ride away several hours 
before, for there was some sort of a club-meeting going on 
to-day at Hermsleben. This was a landed estate some 
miles distant. 

Dear, dear! what should such a poor tired child do after 
running all this long way? In her first paroxysm of dis- 
pair her impulse was to run again, and she went out of the 
yard-gate, while the maid returned to the stable. But she 
had only taken a few steps when she made a halt; she 
could not possibly run as far as Hermsleben, that was too 
much, it was too far! No, absolutely that was no go; it 
would be better to wait for grandpapa maybe he would 
come soon. 

So saying, the little girl ran back to the pavilion and 
patiently seated herself on the door-step. That did the lit- 
tle weary limbs good, and moreover the deep quiet and re- 
pose round about was a godsend after her exciting march. 
If only that tiresome hammering in her brain and temples 
would cease! but now, cuddling up into the corner of thp 
door-frame, made it double perceptible. And now, too, 



52 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

torturing fancies began to troop through her aching head 
At home supper-time had passed long ago, and they must 
have missed her from the table. They would assuredly 
search everywhere for her; and at the thought that Aunt 
Sophie would be made anxious about her sorely grieved 
her little heart. But she prayed fervently that the idea of 
her being here would not strike anybody until after grand- 
papa's return. She started up with terror at the bare 
thought, and sought for a hiding-place into which she 
might creep in case of necessity. For now, since she had 
run away secretly, they would surely send her off the very 
next day grandmamma had been providing for it already 
that inexorable grandmamma, who could be so unjust. 
If Eeynold fell, in clumsy fashion, then " that wild girl 
was scolded;" if he cried out of self-will, " that untamed 
Gretchen had certainly provoked him." Such a grand- 
mother as that never knew how dearly one loves her own 
little brother, and bears everything from him gladly, even 
bites from his mouth, if it would only make him laugh 
and be merry. Ah, yes; those people in the upper story 
were not all good to Gretchen! And almost worse than 
grandmamma was that horrid Herbert, whom she should 
not call uncle. A pretty uncle, indeed, who had no beard, 
and had to moil over his school tasks just the same as she 
had to herself. He had said she ought to be whipped this 
afternoon ; and the finger which he had almost mashed in 
his rage hurt her still. How glad he would be if to-mor- 
row Gretchen were really clapped into a carriage and mer- 
cilessly dragged away to the " bird-cage." But it should 
not be done God forbid! She would struggle against it 
tooth and nail; she would scream so loud that the people 
in the market would run together. Ah, if grandpapa only 
would come! 

But all kept still as death in the garden; over in the 
high-road, too, the rumbling and creaking of vehicles had 
ceased. The silence of night had begun, although she her- 
self had delayed her coming. This had indeed been a 
golden day, and as the sun's hot breath still brooded 
heavily over the earth, so also a vestige of this day's spark- 
ling glory seemed to linger in the air, and be loath to dis- 
appear. 

The clock on the factory tower struck quarter after quar- 
ter of the hour. The ninth hour was already past, and 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 53 

now, to be sure, the worst was over. In town grandpapa 
went to bed always at ten o'clock; he was very punctual, 
and would certainly soon be back at Millbrook. Oh, yes; 
and if she heard him galloping along she would run to 
meet him, and trot along by tbo horse's side; then, at 
least, he would look down upon " his wild romp," and 
then nobody could molest her iiobody! 

And, in sooth, here did come a rider racing at topmost 
speed; but the little girl did not run to the door; for a 
second she listened in blank horror to the tramplings of 
the flying horse-hoofs, than with a wild bound she sprung 
from the door-step, ran around the lake, and crept into 
the almost impenetrable thicket which had been allowed to 
grow up between the opposite side of the lake and the iron 
trellis separating the garden from the factory-yard. The 
rider came from the direction of the town it was her 
papa, who came to look for her. 

She penetrated deeply into the thorny bushes; her white 
frock with its whortleberry stains received now many a 
tear into the bargain, and her feet sunk in the morass; in 
spite of these things, though, she cowered down on the wet 

f round and embraced it as closely as though she would re- 
uce her small body to nothingness. With bated breath 
and chattering teeth firmly clinched, she listened as her 
papa in the yard spoke to a maid looking down from an 
upstairs window. The girl told him that the child had 
turned around before her eyes and gone back to town; she 
had seen her run out of the gate herself. 

In spite of this assurance, Mr. Lambert rode into the 
yard. From her hiding-place in the thicket Margaret 
could hear Lucifer's fierce snorting; papa must have rid- 
den him fearfully hard; then the rider came within the 
radius of her vision. He rode around tli3 pavilion, and, 
from his seat on the horse, he could make ;i right accurate 
survey of the not very spacious garden, with its grass-plgt* 
and groups of maple and acacia trees. 

" Gretchen!" he called into every darkening corner. 

Any other ear would only have discerned in this call a 
father's unspeakable anxiety; but for the little creature 
who lay there cowering motionless in the shrubbery, and 
following with an almost wild glance every movement of 
the rider, that man on yonder horse was at this moment 
the same who this very afternoon had bent over her in th? 



54 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

dark passage, not knowing whether he would choke her 01 
trample her under his heel. And now, when he stopped 
close by on the shore of the lake, and cast his eyes over the 
shallow waters which lay there, so lustrous and crystal clear, 
that even by this dim light the white sand could be seen glit- 
tering at its bottom; now, when his eyes, beneath their dark, 
shaggy brows glowed as they always did when he was furious- 
ly angry, there came over the little girl an indescribable, 
regularly paralyzing sense of dread. Breathless, as though 
turned to stone, she cowered down among the brambles, 
feeling as if she would rather throw herself into the water 
than let an answering sound escape her. 

Mr. Lambert turned his horse and rode out again. It 
must have been the superintendent's man-servant now who 
crossed the yard and opened the trellised gate for the horse- 
man. Mr. Lambert spoke with him, and his voice sound- 
ed hoarse and feeble, like some one whose throat was 
parched from thirst. He asked how long his father-in-law 
would be likely to be absent; and the man told him that 
the old gentleman seldom returned from these club meet- 
ings before two o'clock in the morning. What mo're was 
said she did not hear. Mr. Lambert rode over the yard, 
out at the gate, and the man seemed to accompany him, 
but not by the public road through the fields seemed to 
be the way chosen for return to the town. 

The little runaway was again alone. After that torpor 
of soul had worn off she became conscious of the painful 
pressure upon her contracted limbs caused by the twigs 
displaced in her struggles. The dampness of the ground 
was plainly felt through her thin goat-skin boots, and the 
coppice was swarming with gnats that, thirsting for blood, 
buzzed about her face and bare arms. With difficulty she 
straightened herself up and drew her feet out of the marsh, 
into which they were deeply sunken, the mud adhering 
closely to the soles of her shoes. Now she broke forth into 
a low, piteous wail: those bad bushes would not let her go. 
She must stay there in the midst of that horrible, moldy 
stench, that had been stirred up by her forcing her way 
through; caught like a poor little sparrow in the hard, 
tight embrace of the branches, she would have to wait 
until grandpapa came. And oh! he would not come be- 
fore two o'clock at night. Five long hours would she have 
to be fighting those gnats, clouds of which pressed closer, 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 55 

ever closer to her body, however often she struck at them. 
And there were frogs and toads in plenty here too. Rey- 
nold should only have been there, one time, to see a long, 
striped snake crawl out of the thicket. She fairly shook 
from fright when she felt it to be really alive and under 
her feet. Summoning up all her strength, she worked 
herself, like somebody mad, through this dismal wilderness, 
until the last strong-stemmed runners gave way behind 
her, and with a mighty rustling and crackling set her free. 

A wretched little figure it was that now tumbled, rather 
than walked, back to the pavilion. Her hat had been 
dragged off of her by the higher boughs when she first 
rushed into the woods; it might be still hanging there. 
Her dress, utterly spoiled as it now was, gave her no con- 
cern; only those ugly, coal-black tracks made upon the 
broad white sandstone stairs at every step she took, were 
frightful to behold. Her feet were just caked with mud. 

In the sky one twinkling star after the other peeped 
forth. But the little creature huddled up there in the 
door- way noticed them not. If she even lifted up her heavy 
eyelids, she only saw that the darkness below had swal- 
lowed up the last glimmer of light shining in the bosom of 
the lake; the grass-plots underneath the trees looked 
black, and on every hand was perceptible the whirring past 
of creatures of the night; owls screeched, and robber-bats 
came swooping down from the roof of the pavilion. As 
though in a dream, reached her from the village the bark 
of here and there a dog, and the tower clock had again 
marked two quarters of hours. Yet many, many such 
quarters of an hour must be clicked down from up yonder 
before two o'clock came. 

Ah! how dreadful it was! 

The wetness of her feet sent one chill after another shiv- 
ering over her frame, and her forehead, leaned against the 
hard door-mat, glowed and ached terribly. Ah, if she 
could .just once, only for a few minutes, press her heavy 
head upon a soft pillow and be allowed a swallow of water 
from the cool spring at home that must make it well! 
Aunt Sophie always poured a little raspberry juice into the 
glass when anybody complained of headache, and for such 
gnat stings as now burned upon her arms and cheeks she 
had a soothing salve. Ah, yes, it was nice to be with 
Aunt Sophie. An uncontrollable longing after her aunt's 



56 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

faithful attention suddenly welled .up in the little one I 
bosom. 

She closed her eyes again and dreamed herself into her 
own little room at home. The windows opened upon the 
still court-yard, and the splashing of the fountain sounded 
softly and uninterruptedly; it had ever been the lulling 
cradle-song of the two children. She lay in her soft white 
bed, and Aunt Sophie cooled her burning face and sore 
arms until she fell asleep. Yes, asleep, to go home and 
sleep, that was it! It was that which pushed her up with 
a jerk, and caused her to tumble out through the garden, 
across the yard and out upon the field path. She no longer 
heard the clock strike as she was leaving the yard; that 
anxious counting of quarter-hours was over; neither did 
she think of the long road that stretched before her; she 
thought only of the goal, the wide, cool chamber where she 
could stretch out her burning body with its throbbing 
pulses; she heard Aunt Sophie's pleasant voice, and saw 
the hands that would lift her upon her lap and draw off 
the wet, heavy burden from her feet. Of what was to conn, 
next day she thought no more now. 

And her stiff little legs grew more limber from use. At 
ever-increasing speed the child flew past the slumbering 
village. Then emerged the forest a dark mass who 
would ever have imagined that it was made up of millions 
of murmuring leaves and leaflets. Past here too she went 
in heedless haste, and only once did the little racer bound 
aside. 

A white gown moved amid the thicket. Oh, it was only 
the birch-trees, with their light trunks, but they did not 
stand firmly, they shook so queerly, and the little star that 
rose immediately above them, over the valley; that light 
in the top room of the tall watch-tower, which commanded 
the town, it was shaking too, as if the old fellow, that 
clumsy tower, were beginning to dance in his old age. Yet 
this astounding apparition, too, was forgotten in that all- 
absorbing impulse to go forward. On, on. Home to 
Aunt Sophie. 

And in the whispering wheat-field she heard Reynold 
crying, because " that wild Gretchen " had overturned his 
tower, and Barbara kept muttering away about the lady 
with the red rubies in her hair, and of the shaking curtain 
in the locked-up room, and the red poppies that the child 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 5? 

had seen glowing like torches in the wheat-field to-day; it 
made the narrow, dark lane stifling hot; but lie down on 
the cool earth, to rest? that would never do. Far away 
Aunt Sophie kept calling: " Come on, Gretchen! Make 
haste home \" 

So she ran forward obediently toward the last, indeed, 
with tottering knees and panting chest, until the town was 
gained. In many a house of the last lane, through which 
she dragged wearily, a light still burned, but the doors 
were locked, and the child's feeble steps fairly thundered 
upon the hollow little canal bridge, so deep was the noc- 
turnal stillness already fallen upon street and lane. And 
now, at last, the warehouse gate loomed up immediately in 
front of the little maid; it was bad, though, that the heavy, 
old-fashioned door-lock was fixed so high that a childish 
hand could not reach it. After a vain effort, the little one 
sunk down exhausted upon the foundation-stones. She 
thought that the whole world was whirling about her in 
circles, and she could hear nothing for the perpetual ham- 
mering and thumping her pulses; but the murmuring of 
the canal water shooting by still penetrated to her ear, and 
the coolness streaming forth from it had a reviving effect 
upon her fast fading consciousness. And now, too, some- 
body came along the street; they were strong steps that 
were drawing near the warehouse, and after a few minutes 
a man. entered the covered gate- way. So far did the star- 
lit sky still illumine the night that one could distinguish 
the outlines of a figure. The man was Mr. May, who lived 
in the warehouse; a person, too, whom Margaret liked. 
When she had been playing in the yard he had often ex- 
changed lively words with her, and in response to a kindly 
greeting from her, he had stroked her hair with caressing 
hand. 

" Let me go in with you, too!" murmured she, hoarse- 
ly, when he had turned his latch-key in the door and was 
about to open it. 

He turned around. " Who is there?" 

" Gretchen." 

" What! the child from the house? For heaven's sake, 
little one, how came you here?" 

She did not answer, and only felt gropingly after his 
right hand, which he stretched out, in order to raise her 
up; but this was absolutely no go; and so, without further 



58 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ceremony he took her up in his arms and bore her beneath 
the covered gate-way. 

Inside the deep door-way of the old warehouse it was 
pitch dark already. Mr. May groped his way cautiously 
forward with his burden, and finally a door to the left fell 
back noisily. Immediately afterward the light of a candle 
fell down athwart the steep stairs intervening. 

" Ernest?" called down a voice full of anxious solici- 
tude. 

" Yes, it is I; here I am, hair and hide, safe and sound 
as a dollar! Good evening to you, too, Nannie dear!" 

" Well, God be praised and thanked that you are there! 
But, dearest, where on earth have you been all this while?" 

" Did you think I had run off?" said he, continuing to 
mount slowly. " This beautiful, enchanted Thuringian 
forest entices one like a Jack's lantern always one point 
more gorgeous than the other. You race on and on, and 
think not of the long way back home. I bring back legs 
wofully tired; but then the sketch-book is full, mother." 

So saying, he emerged from the darkness and stood upon 
the staircase landing, while his wife, who was standing at 
the top with the lamp in her hand, started back. 

" Yes, guess what I bring with me, Nannie? See what 
I picked up just now in the door-way!" said he, standing 
on the highest step, with an expression of face half laugh- 
ing and half perplexed. He tried to turn the child's head 
and examine it by the light; but she had flung her arms 
convulsively around his neck, and pressed her little face 
(well-nigh covered with disheveled hair) against his cheek. 

Mrs. May, as quickly as possible, placed the lamp on the 
hall table. " Give me the child, Ernest," said she, with 
anxious haste, reaching out after the little girl. " You 
shall not take one more step on those poor, tired legs of 
yours; but Gretchen must go home at once. They have 
been searching for her these many hours. Bless me, what 
a tumult there has been at Mr. Lambert's. Everybody 
running, one afoul of the other; and old Barbara howling 
in her kitchen so that we could plainly hear her at this dis- 
tance. Come to me, my precious!" coaxed she, in soft 
and tender tones, " I will carry you over." 

" No, no!" cried the child, piteously, clinging still more 
closely to her bearer. " If they were all running about, 
then grandmamma was down- stairs too," and, wildly con- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 59 

fused as were the thoughts of her aching head, yet with re- 
gard to her reception on the part of that old lady, they 
were perfectly clear. " No, don't carry me over there!" 
repeated she, with flying breath. " Aunt Sophie shall 
come!" 

"All right, then, darling, then we'll fetch Annt 
Sophie," said Mr. May, soothingly. 

" Exactly as the little child likes," agreed his wife, who 
listened with concern to the hoarseness of the child's voice, 
observing, too, that she struggled for breath; with quick 
hand and searching glance she also stroked the tangled 
masses of hair from her distorted little face. 

Silently she took the lamp and opened her chamber- 
door. 

The warehouse, that oldest of the back -buildings, dating 
from ancestral times, Was a massive edifice, with thick 
walls and deep window niches, the peculiar facades of 
which faced the north of the street. Therefore it was that 
the breeze which met those coming in was so deliciously 
cool and perfectly pure, being laden only with the refresh- 
ing odor of blooming mignonette. Here, in the quiet, 
cozy home of the painter's family, the child willingly in- 
trusted herself to the kind, sweet woman, who took her 
upon her lap, while Mr. May was laying off his hat, plaid, 
and knapsack. 

" Blanche is out in the passage," said his wife, as if in 
reply to the look of inquiry with which her husband sur- 
veyed the room. " She was here arranging her hair for 
the evening when the coachman from the other house 
came to inquire if we knew anything about Gretchen. For 
a long time, indeed, we had observed the confusion over 
there; Mr. Lambert had been riding in and out at quite 
too unusual times; and in the yard every nook and corner 
was searched. But we adhered strictly to your orders, that 
W3 should take no notice of anything going on in your prin- 
cipal's house and yard. But now, since the coachman has 
been here, our child has been sitting out there in the dark 
passage, and is not to be persuaded to come in; that dear 
little thing there is the apple of her eye, although she only 
knows her by sight; but bless us, child, what is the matter 
with your feet?" she exclaimed, changing the subject of 
her remarks, as the lamplight fell upon the muddy little 
hoots that dangled down over her light dress. With hasty 



60 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

hands she felt over the seams of the tattered little frock, 
which was also soaked in wet from the marsh. " The 
child has been in the water," said she, in a troubled whis- 
per to her husband, " her clothes must be changed as soon 
as possible. Go call Blanche." 

He opened the door in the back wall of the room. The 
room behind, which was the kitchen, was dark, but through 
the opposite wide-open door that led to the passage lights' 
were seen shining here and there in the house opposite. 

Upon her father's calling light steps outside were heard 
tripping over the creaking plank floor of the passage, and 
then the beautiful Blanche emerged from the deep dark- 
ness and stood upon the threshold of the door, in a white 
mantle trimmed with lace, her loosened hair floating 
around her in waves of gold. Her face was pale, and her 
bare arms hung despondently by her side. 

" Have you come at last, father?" asked she in vibrat- 
ing tones. She remained standing, with shy demeanor 
and downcast eyes; it seemed as if the lamplight that flood- 
ed her so suddenly and garishly was intolerable to her, and 
her sole wish was to fly back into the darkness. 

" What! is that the only welcome my darling has for 
me?" cried Mr. May, pettishly. "Neither a kiss nor 
shake of the hand? and yet I. have brought a lost sheep 
back with me. Do you see nothing? Who is that sitting 
there in your mother's lap?" 

With an outcry of surprise the young girl started and 
flew up to the child. 

" See, see!" said Mr. May, half amused, but at the 
same time a little hurt. " Father might well be jealous. 
You have really troubled yourself much more about the 
strange child than about your father's staying out. But 
now help me to bathe your pet, and put dry things on her. 
There in the bottom drawer of the bureau some of the 
clothes you wore when a child lie, and I would like you to 
find them for me." 

She seated the little girl upon the sofa, and fetched a 
basin of water, with a towel, while the young girl knelt 
down upon the deal board, and with flying hands fumbled 
over the contents of the drawer. 

" Where have you been, my child?" said Mrs. May, as 
she loosened the strings and buttons that confined the lit- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. A 61 

tie girPs clothes, for she felt that her body was bathed in 
perspiration. 

" I was at Millbrook," gasped Margaret. " But grand- 
papa could not help me, he was not there." 

And now, while the lady washed the besmeared little feet 
with a warm sponge, it seemed as if all the sufferings that 
had crowded together to oppress her childish heart must 
find a vent. In convulsive haste all was pictured; her 
frights in the thicket by the lake, and her dread lest papa 
might get down off his horse and search the bushes. And 
why had she run off to grandpapa? Well, because a white 
figure slips through the dark passage and frightens people. 
And the room was not locked, most certainly not! She 
had quite plainly heard the door-knob turned, then she 
had seen it, as white as snow, glide through the door that 
was opened just a little way, and long hair was hanging 
down under the veil; and -because that girl screamed so 
loud papa was now going to send Gretchen to boarding- 
school. 

" The most decided delirium. The little girl is very 
sick/' murmured Mr. May, with averted countenance. 
" Make haste with that change of clothes!" And he stole 
softly out to convey the tidings to the great house. 

The little dress and child's stockings must have strayed 
into the most remote corners, for the fair Blanche still 
knelt in front of the bureau and continued her search for 
them. In her white robe, and with her long golden tresses 
streaming unnoticed over the floor, she looked like some 
princess transformed into a waiting-maid. Now a second 
drawer was noisily pulled open. 

Mrs. May arose a little impatiently and approached. 
" Dear heart, you keep me waiting a little too long; and 
to have things in such disorder as not to lay my hand 
directly on what I want is not my way. Where have your 
eyes been, little bat? There lies that little blue flannel 
dress right on top, here in the corner lie three pairs of 
stockings, and here too is a night-gown." 

She took out what she wanted and closed the drawer. 

The young girl had no longer any excuse for tarrying in 
that dimly lighted corner, and when she again came slowly 
up to where the lamp's rays fell more directly, every drop 
of blood seemed to have left her lips. 

" Child, how can you allow yourself to feel so much?" 



62 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

cried her mother in alarm. "It is not so bad as your 
father fancies. With children, fever quickly sets in and 
just as quickly leaves them. In a few days your pet will 
be well again. You will see that I am right. Here, put 
these fresh stockings upon those tired little legs, while I 
prepare for her a cooling draught." 

The daughter silently unrolled the stockings, cowered 
down before the sofa, and set herself to draw them on the 
naked feet; but hardly had the kitchen door fallen to be- 
hind her mother before the young girl drew herself up with 
a passionate gesture, encircled the child in both arms, and 
vehemently pressed her to her breast. 

Margaret opened her eyes wide with surprise. They 
glittered from fever. " Ah, you love me, Miss May? Is 
that so?" 

The beautiful Blanche nodded her head in assent; in re- 
pressed pain she bit her under lip, and a tear stole forth 
from beneath her lowered eyelashes. 

" It is so nice in this cool room of yours," murmured 
the little one, tenderly pressing her face against the mass 
of fair hair that fell over the maiden's bosom. " I should 
like to stay here. Grandmamma does not come here no, 
never; she never goes into the warehouse, neither does 
papa. But Aunt Sophie comes. Put me to bed!" 

At this moment her mother entered the room again. 

"Ah, and how sweet you smell, Miss May!" cried the 
child in a louder tone, lifting up her head and inhaling a 
deep breath. " Like the sweetest roses, just like ; ' A 
pair of hot, quivering lips were pressed firmly upon the lit- 
tle mouth, and stifled any further speech. 

" But, Blanche, the child is barefooted still!" scolded 
Mrs. May. " And who should excite a patient by the sight 
of one's own distress? Be off, Miss Awkwardness! I'll 
put them on myself." 

In a few minutes she had effected a complete change of 
clothing; haste, too, was indeed needful, for, as already in 
the wheat-field, fevered images now again mingled in the 
child's ideas. Mrs. May held to her lips the cooling drink 
which she had prepared for her, and in eager draughts was 
the longed-for liquid swallowed. Immediately afterward 
Bteps were heard coming upstairs, and Mr. May introduced 
Aunt Sophie. 

Anyone familiar with that lively " old maid's " f ac 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 63 

would have been alarmed, so frightfully had it been altered, 
in coloring and lineaments, by the anxiety of the last few 
hours. With a silent greeting for the lady of the house 
and the beautiful girl, who had again taken refuge in the 
dark corner of the room, she went straight up to her little 
niece, who feebly held out her arms to her. A single 
searching glance, a touch of the child's brow, and she 
knew that a severe illness had set in. 

" That comes of handling such an innocent young soul 
as that like a mean instrument, on which you may strum 
as much as you choose!" said she, harshly, in unspeakable 
bitterness of spirit, made reckless by suffering. 

She wrapped the little one in a plaid, which she had 
brought with her, took her up in her arms and shook 
hands with Mr. and Mrs. May. " Thanks, many thanks!" 
Ere more could be said, she had left the chamber. 

No sooner had she got into the yard, however, than a 
tall form stepped forward out of the darkness, and came 
to meet them. Little Margaret shrunk back, and a shiver 
passed over her whole body as she felt two hands lay hold 
of her. It was her father who impulsively strained her to 
his heart. 

" My dear child, my good Gretchen, do not be fright- 
ened. I am papa," said his deep voice tremulously. He 
clasped her to his heaving chest while he bore her across 
the yard, and in the brightly lighted front hall, where all 
the inmates of the household rushed upon him and the 
child, he imposed silence by an imperious wave of the 
hand, and went past the hushed group to the children's 
sleeping apartment. 

So well so good! The gypsies have not stolen her; 
and she is not dead, either, God be praised!" said Barbara 
afterward to the others in the kitchen, and had her first 
"spell of fainting" after so many hours of anguish. 
" But nobody need tell me that we have seen the end of it 
yet. Anybody, to look at that poor little creature, with 
its dangling legs and arms, would know better than that. 
What did I say just this evening? Ill-luck is coming; 
that's just what I said. But there was everybody crying 
me down: 'Superstitious Barbara,' 'bird of ill-omen,' 
' sensationalist!' all such names they called me. Very 
well, let them mock, it takes no wit to do that; but proof, 
proof, there's the rub, Well, some day we'll see who'? 



64 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

right; those wise folks that believe in nothing or old Bar- 
bara with her simplicity! Anybody like her with the 
rubies is not goin' to be careerin' around in that passage 
for nothin' 't all. It isn't the first time, neither, that such 
a poor, innocent little lamb as that has gotten a warning. 
Hear me, it's goin' hard with our poor Gretchen!" 

At these words she again laid aside the fork, with its 
spitted morsel, and hid her face in her blue linen apron. 

And for weeks that kitchen prophetess had the painful 
satisfaction of being able to refer to " what she had said " 
as day succeeded day. In the midst of all her genuine 
grief she had yet feasted her mind with the melancholy 
pleasure of picturing to herself how she would order the 
most splendid wreath of flowers to be got, the broad 
white satin ribbon attached to it being stamped in gold let- 
ters, with the name of " Barbara Wenzel," when, lo! the 
strong constitution of the child conquered, and a favorable 
change suddenly took place in her disease. 

Again there was sunshine in the house. Mr. Lambert, 
who had hardly stirred from his child's bedside during her 
hours of peril, straightened his drooping form and was 
again his passionate self in look and gesture; yes, the peo- 
ple thought that he had never looked so proud and self- 
confident as just now. But what others in the house re- 
marked joyfully only imbittered old Barbara. He had 
carried out his purpose of occupying himself for a season 
in the haunted apartments of Mistress Dorothea; the 
corridor, too, had been shut off by a door from the en- 
trance hall. In the old cook's estimation it was almost 
worse than blasphemy when they saw him freely draw back 
the faded curtains up there, and, with sinful presumption, 
step up to the window. Of the fugitive white lady nobody 
spoke any more, of course. No Christian could see 
through a thick wooden door! But perversely enough, 
the morning never came when the gentleman was found 
dead in his room; on the contrary, he was, as it were, im- 
bued with new life. 

And grandpapa, who, on that unhappy night, coming 
from Hermsleben, had not got off his horse, but ridden 
straight to town, was once more jesting and joking in his 
usual blunt and jovial manner; but the very day that his 
darling could stay out of bed for the first time during a 
whole afternoon, the ground burned beneath his feet again, 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 63 

and he was up and away. The infamous screeeher, that 
spoiled beast in the upper story, was chasing him out of 
his own house, he said, smilingly, from his horse's back as 
he took leave of the little convalescent; and Mrs. Counsel- 
lor stood up at the window and stroked her parrot, offering 
him a bit of sugar with her delicate taper fingers. 

Two days afterward Mr. Lambert, too, rode away for 
a long while, said his clerks in the office. Little Margaret 
looked into his face with amazement as he bent over her in 
taking leave, and promised to bring her the most splendid, 
presents. She had never seen papa so " excessive]/ 
pleased," and his eyes sparkling so, she thought. 

" I believe it," said Aunt Sophie. " He is so glad that 
his little runaway is well again; and after he has dis- 
patched the business part of his tour, then he will go to 
Italy, and maybe further yet. He feels like seeing some- 
thing of the world again, and he is right. After that time 
of distress he must be allowed to enjoy himself; we have 
all had enough for a long while. Yes, Gretchen, I'll re- 
member that bleaching-day so long as my senses last." 

And the lindens before the weaving-room, meanwhile, 
summer-like, had eclipsed themselves; from the bower of 
roses shone, only here and there, single buds of the 
jacqueminot like drops of blood fallen from the sky; and 
upon the glittering waters of the fountain's basin already 
swam the first yellow leaves of autumn, when the little 
convalescent was allowed to go out of doors. Much had 
altered; but the most wonderful thing of all was that papa 
had actually stayed up there in those rooms, which were 
being thoroughly aired, now that he had gone upon his 
travels. The windows stood wide open and the wonderful 
painting could be seen on the ceiling of that vast drawing- 
room with its three windows, and in the adjoining cham- 
ber the green silk canopy of a high-post bedstead. And 
upon the window-sills stood and lay, ready for the dusting, 
a great variety of modern knickknacks, smoking utensils, 
statuettes, albums, and whole stacks of newspapers. Mr. 
Lambert had had the whole suite of ill-famed apartments 
made perfectly comfortable and every day in style. 

The little girl looked up thoughtfully. From that room 
with the gorgeously painted ceiling had issued the veiled 
figure; it had been the second of the doors along the cor- 
ridor from behind which had come in sight that pretty lit- 



66 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

tie booted foot. Since she had got well she had had an 
exact recollection of all this; but she spoke no more of it 
for vexation because nobody paid any attention to her ac- 
count of her adventure. She had no idea that the doctoi 
had declared the "vision" in the corridor to have been 
already a premonitory symptom of her nervous malady. 
And so the whole occurrence, with its unfortunate 
sequences, was a forbidden subject; never a word, either, 
was dropped about the correction of the " unmannerly 
Gretchen " by sending her into a boarding-school. 

It was still as death in the open passage of the ware- 
house; only the merry summer breezes still disported them- 
selves among the sheltering branches of the mock-orange 
bush, agitating the leaves until it seemed as if a million of 
tiny tongues were murmuring softest tales of the season 
well-nigh past. 

In that pretty room, full of the odors of mignonette, 
sat, it is true, the lady with the sweet, womanly face; but 
she looked very sad; for the beautiful Blanche was now 
gone; she had set off early this morning and returned to 
take her situation in England; and little Margaret had 
been startled from her morning nap by hearing the news, 
and buried her head in the pillows and wept silently, so 
that her aunt and Barbara should not hear. But just 
now, when Reynold had gone into the house to fetch his 
box of building blocks, and the little girl was sitting by 
herself under the linden-trees, the old cook came across 
the yard with one hand tucked beneath her apron, and 
scanning the windows in the top story of the great house 
opposite with a truly inquisitorial look. 

"' Miss Sophie knows about it, and wants me to give it 
to you, Gretchen; but I do not exactly care about Mrs. 
Counsellor's eye being upon us/' said she. " When you 
were sick, many a tirue the pretty young lady over there 



would watch hours for me, waiting to hear precisely how 

Sou were. She never came down into the yard, you know, 
le whole time she was here. Your papa and grandmam- 



ma are proud people and put up with no liberties; but this 
morning, very early, when I went to the pump to get 
water to make my coffee with, she came across the yard, 
all dressed in her hat and veil, with a traveling-bag in her 
hand and pale as death, looking as if she had well-nigh 
cried her eyes out because she had to go out again by her- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 67 

self into the wide, wide world. And she said I must kiss 
you a thousand times for her, and ' give you this/ '' 

She drew her hand forth from underneath her apron, and 

K laced a little packet on the garden-table; with glee the 
ttle one drew an embroidered pocket out of the paper. 

" Hush, hush, Gretchen; do not scream so!" warned 
Barbara. ' ' There might have been a real story to tell about 
this morning early, and it was not at all handsome of Mrs. 
Counsellor, now ' all right/ I always say! It is no harm at 
all if young Mr. Herbert conies down to the pump with his 
drinking-glass, just at this moment, as he has been doing 
every morning all these last weeks. He looked right sick, 
pale as a corpse, and came up to the young girl as if he 
were about to say something to her, perhaps wish her a 
pleasant journey, or make some other nice speech; but lo! 
and behold, there stood Mrs. Counsellor already on the 
spot, with her night-cap on and her dressing-gown thrown 
around her, as rf she had just started from her bed, and 
she looked mad enough to eat the young girl up. Miss 
May, though, only made her a profound bow and went 
back to her parents, who were waiting for her on the door- 
step. Do you know, Gretchen, to say nothing of her being 
so pretty, the painter's daughter looks as proud and ele- 
gant any day as our duchess, and it may be that the 
haughty thing vexed your grandmamma, for before I 
rightly knew how, she had snatched the paper out of my 
hand, and peeped into it. 

" ' It's for Gretchen, Mrs. Counsellor!' said I. 

" ' Indeed!' said she in a loud angry tone. ' I should 
like to know how Miss May come to be making my grand- 
child a present?' And this the poor girl could not help 
hearing, any more than her father and mother, too. And 
the young gentleman felt as much cut up as I did; he 
looked daggers, and rushed into the house. So, there's the 
whole story, Gretchen. Mrs. Counsellor even wanted to 
take entire possession of the little packet; but I took to my 
heels, and Miss Sophie says she can not see why you should 
not wear the little pocket. " 

She went back to her kitchen, and' little Margaret sat 
pondering over what she had heard. It made her heart- 
sore, and tears of indignation mounted to her eyes, because 
the good people in the warehouse had been insulted. And 
Barbara was right, Herbert had altered a great deal, look- 



68 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

ing dreadfully pale and low-spirited ; he had not a word to 
say to anybody now, not even Reynold, who was his 
favorite. Oh! yes, that grandmamma! How terrible she 
could look at times, so that even a first-class student like 
Herbert was afraid of her too; that was plain to see. But 
she did not care, let grandmamma scold ever so much, and 
her eyes flash fire too, but wear that pocket she would 
every day, and although papa should come back too, and 
take sides with her, for he was proud too, papa was, and 
may be worse even than grandmamma; you could tell that 
by his harsh tone when he gave orders, and besides he 
never talked with the workmen under him. Those artist 
people were beneath him; he always looked as if he did 
not know that anybody was living in the warehouse, and 
no matter who was in the open passages he never took any 
notice of them. Even on that unfortunate evening he had 
not entered the house, but preferred to wait in the dark 
yard until she had been brought out. Only during her 
sickness he had not seemed so proud ; when she got better 
and he had been sitting by her bedside, she had ventured 
to tell him of the pretty room in the warehouse, and of the 
beautiful young lady who had come in from the passage 
looking so white, with her hair flowing, and pressed her 
head so closely to her bosom that the soft, thick hair had 
fallen all over her face. And papa had not seemed at all 
worried; but he had kept perfectly still, he had kissed her 
on the forehead, and pressed her as fervently to his own 
throbbing heart as the beautiful Blanche had done before. 
And she was "wondering over it even to this day. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE town of B was not the seat of government for 

that duchy; but its beautiful, healthy location made it the 
favorite summer residence of the reigning duke, in spite of 
its castle being anything but imposing as a building, and 
hardly affording sufficient accommodation for the entire 
ducal household. For that matter, during the last three 
years there had been no such great need of crowding 
together a concourse of summer visitors to the palace, see- 
ing that the two beautiful princesses, although hardly more 
than children in years, had been fetched away and made 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 69 

brilliant matches, even for ladies of their rank, and the 
hereditary prince had been abroad traveling. 

Whether now the May moon deserved its delightfully 
sounding appellation, or whether passing over fields of snow 
still lying upon the mountains, a rude blast from April's 
breath shed its chill influence over those valleys of the 
Thuringian Mountains, lying adjacent to the lowlands, 
never mind, punctually every year on the fifteenth of May, 
a train of carriages left the capital for the pretty town of 
B -- , and soon afterward the chimneys of the palace 
were seen to smoke hospitably, the well-known livery of 
the ducal servants appeared on the streets, and now and 
then an equipage stopped before the most distinguished 
ladies 



houses the ladies of the court were paying visits. The 
Lambert house was one of the few burgher ones to which 
this distinction was accorded. Mrs. Counsellor was just as 
well received at court now, as ten years before; for full 
ten years have elapsed since that unhappy bleaching-day, 
on which little Margaret had run away to Millbrook, for 
fear of being sent to boarding-school. 

The sun of ducal favor, as a matter of course, beamed 
also upon all closely related to the old lady; for example, 
the firm of Lambert and Son was now represented by a 
counselor of commerce, the only one in the town of B - , 
for his most serene highness was very chary of bestowing 
this title. Mr. Baldwin Lambert, too, was by no means 
unappreciative of this rare distinction; his business friends 
maintained that he was so stuck-up now, that there was no 
such thing as coming near him. Formerly, he used to 
have obliging manners, at any rate, but all that had been 
swept away before a repulsive hauteur. It had been years 
since he had been seen to smile. He traveled a great deal 
on business, and had hardly been more active in the first 
years of his majority; but when he came home the house 
grew really dark, the voices of all his dependents sunk into 
a whisper, and anxiety sat on every brow, while every foot- 
step sounded muffled, as though each one feared to scare 
up the evil spirit lurking in some corner. " That horrid 
hypochondria a Lambert idiosyncrasy!" said the family 
physician, shrugging his shoulders, as he perceived the 
gloomy mood of the returned master of the house, who 
often locked himself up for days at a time. " It were good 
to drink plenty of water and saw wood!" And Mrs. 



70 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Counsellor nodded her head eagerly in assent, and pro- 
nounced it to be that old family complaint, else absolutely 
nothing! But Aunt Sophie smiled grimly when this 
oracular sentence reached her ears. 

" Absolutely nothing, indeed!" she used to repeat 
ironically. I suppose a bit of longing after genuine 
family life counts for nothing at all. Ah, yes, take care of 
that. The man forsooth must thank God, that once, for 
a certain number of years, he was blessed with a wife, and 
devote the rest of his days to pondering over the recollec- 
tion of his past happiness. Fanny must have admired en- 
tirely too much that last malicious act of old Mistress 
Judith's life, since she imitated her exactly. Well, for 
my part, I should have nothing to say, if she had left that 
poor fellow the widower a couple of strapping lads; but 
that wretched little Reynold! It is hard to submit, to have 
the whole honor of a house rest on such shoulders." 

Eeynold Lambert was indeed the black sheep of the 
fold, and there was no denying it. He suffered from a 
heart affection that incapacitated him from exertion, men- 
tal and physical. He himself was hardly conscious of the 
deprivations to which he was subjected by being thus cut 
off from all the delights of youthful enjoyments, for his 
soul was bound up in business. But if the eyes of the 
counselor of commerce fell perchance upon the long, pale, 
thin accountant who stood there at his desk with all the 
measured sobriety of a gray -beard, unconcerned as to 
whether snow-blossoms were being shed from flowering 
trees out of doors, or veritable winter flakes were whirling 
in front of the windows, there passed a dark shadow over 
his features, and a bitter contemptuous glance scanned this 
little heap of mortality that was one day to represent the 
house of Lambert. But not a word on the subject was 
ever spoken; only in secret he convulsively clinched his 
fist when he heard Mrs. Counsellor congratulating herself 
that the repose of manner distinguishing the dear departed 
Fanny had been transferred, in so striking a fashion, to 
her son. And the heir of the Lamberts was not really 
sickly, as she regarded it, positively not. God forbid! He 
was o:ily of a sensitive, delicate organization; a woman like 
Fanny could not, of course, become the mother of coarse, 
peasant children. Margaret likewise was short and slender, 
but sound as a doxlar. Just let any one read her letters of 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 71 

travel why the girl could endure hardships and fatigue 
like any man! For that matter these escapades were not 
at all after the old lady's taste; the development of her 
granddaughter's character was fundamentally displeasing 
to her. A sojourn for some years in a fashionable semi- 
nary, frequented by the nobility, then a presentation at 
court, and after a few years of social triumphs to wind up 
by making a good match. Such was her idea of the proper 
manner of conducting the education of the only daughter 
of a wealthy family. But already Margaret's hard-headed- 
ness had frustrated the scheme so far as the boarding- 
school had been concerned, and to the infinite chagrin of 
her grandmamma, the maiden had remained in her 
"abominable native surroundings " until she had passed 
her fourteenth year. Then occurred a sudden revolution 
in her life's history. 

Mrs. Counsellor's younger sister had married a university 
professor, whose name had attained to a wide celebrity. 
He was an historian and archaeologist, and since his circum- 
stances easily admitted of it, he traveled a great deal in 
order to obtain material for his scientific works, at the 
fountain-head, and his wife was a faithful companion for 
him during all his journeyings children they had not. 

After a long sojourn in Italy and Greece, they had once 
more returned to their native land, and Mrs. Counsellor 
esteemed herself fortunate in being permitted to entertain 

them for a few days on their way through B , because 

she was very proud of her brother-in-law's reputation. 

On the first day of their visit, Gretchen, " that unman- 
nerly piece," was nowhere to be found by her indignant 
grandmamma. Who, indeed, should have been in such 
terrible haste to encounter what one dreads? The girl had 
always stood in great awe of that famous scholar, her 
granduncle in Berlin. She fancied that he was one of 
those terrible creatures who clutched unhappy school- 
children, clamped them between his knees and examined 
them until cold sweat oozed from their brows. Of course 
he was lean, lank, and stiff as a ramrod, never laughed, 
and looked through great round spectacles with keen, 
piercing eyes. But, on the second morning, she had crept 
into the front hall and hid herself behind the beaitfct, that 
stood diagonally across from the parlor-door, whence she 
could see the professor and his wife breakfasting with hei 



72 THE LADY WITH THE BUBIES. 

papa. And she had opened her eyes; for the handsome 
old gentleman could not only laugh, but laugh heartily. 
He had a glorious full white beard flowing down over his 
breast, and magnificent eyes, without any spectacles. And 
just as any young man might have done, he had lifted up 
his glass of sparkling gold wine, and given a playful toast. 
Then, he had told of the Schliemann excavation son Mount 
llissarlik; and very wonderful, moreover, had it been that 
his wife, too, her grandaunt, with her gray hair brushed 
smoothly over her broad brow, should have joined in the 
conversation with equal intelligence, it seemed, as the great 
scholar himself. Yes, a vast, wonderful world full of old 
buried secrets again lay bare to the learned, and the young 
ignoramus listening behind the beaufet had gradually 
straightened her stooping figure; then a soft, sly, and 
stealthy step had crossed the hall, until the overgrown 
young girl, with her timid glance, was discernible behind 
the parlor door. Although her attitude was that of one 
prepared for instant flight, it was evident that her atten- 
tion had been aroused, and that she was listening in 
breathless eagerness, to what was being narrated. 

" My Gretchen a shy bird, as you see!" her papa had 
said, beckoning to her with his hand, and thus breaking 
the charm which had held her spell-bound. 

But flight and self-willed resistance had availed nothing 
against the fate which had driven the fugitive resistlessly 
into a territory at once strange and enchanting; thirst for 
knowledge had been kindled in that young soul, and led 
her again and again to the feet of those who could gratify 
that newly awakened desire, and when eight days afterward 
the carriage drew up before the Lambert mansion, waiting 
to convey the travelers to the railroad, then had that un- 
mannerly Gretchen come out of the house-door too, 
equipped in veiled hat and traveling-dress, with tear-stained 
face, it is true, and the sad words of a hard parting still 
trembling upon her lips; but they by no means had 
to drag her to the carriage by main force, nor had she 
screamed so either, that the people on the market-place 
had come running to her aid; no, with firm determination 
and voluntarily had she gone with them in order to learn, 
in company with her uncle and aunt, and accompany them 
on their travels. 

Five years had elapsed since then. Margaret was nine- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 73 

teen years of age now, and had not revisited her father's 
house. Her relations, papa in particular, she had often 
seen meanwhile, sometimes at Berlin, sometimes at a 
rendezvous fixed upon in the course of their travels, and 
within the last two years, her grandmamma's visits to Ber- 
lin had become more and more frequent. She was anxious 
to take her granddaughter back home with her, but uncle 
and aunt trembled at thoughts of a separation, and the 
young lady herself betrayed not the slightest trace of desire 
to be introduced at the ducal court at home, so that Mrs. 
Counsellor had invariably to return alone, deeply cha- 
grined. 

Aunt Sophie, with the exception of Herbert, was the 
only one who had been obliged to deny herself the pleasure 
of meeting Gretchen again. No; nobody should ever be 
able to say of her that she had left her housekeeping in 
the lurch, even for a few days, for the sake of any pleas- 
ure, however near to the heart. It was simply not to be 
done, because she could not answer for it to her conscience; 
and so that foolish old heart had absolutely nothing where- 
with to still its longing. But now the purchase of new 
carpets and portieres had become a matter of necessity, 
besides that Aunt Sophie's fur mantle was past wear, in 
spite of melilot clover and pepper. Now it stands to reason 
that an expensive article like a new fur mantle is some- 
thing that can not be bought by order any more than costly 
carpets and portieres. There was call here for the maturest 
judgment, and so one day Aunt Sophie steamed away for 
Berlin, much more eagerly, however, it must be confessed, 
than merely household purposes required, and suddenly she 
stood in Margaret's chamber, her face streaming with tears 
of joy. And what all the earnest entreaties and stringent 
suasion of Mrs. Counsellor had not been able to effect was 
accomplished by the sight of that unforgotten motherly 
friend; a vehement desire was suddenly kindled in the 
young girl's soul; she wanted to go home for a right long 
visit, at least to stay over Christmas there; she wanttd 
Aunt Sophie to light up the Christmas-tree for her in their 
cozy sitting-room, just as she used to do for her when a 
child. And so it was settled that she should shortly follow 
her aunt home, but quite secretly; nobody should know of 
I'.er intention, because papa and grandmamma were to be 
surprised. 



74 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Thus it happened then that on a still, mild evening to- 
ward the close of September, that the young lady, coming 
on foot from the station, closed after her the folding-doors 
of the warehouse gate, and smiling, paused for a moment 
underneath its dark portal. She seemed to be hearkening 
s.till to the groaning and creaking of the old wooden joints, 
although they had directly died away. These very sounds 
had played a part in her childish life, as far back as she 
could remember, when she was playing in the court-yard, 
and often startling her out of the sweet unconsciousness of 
a first sleep. And how often had Aunt Sophie told her 
that through this very gate for centuries had gone forth 
into the world wagon-loads of linen, that gold-bringing 
fabric which had built up the fortunes of the Lamberts. 
In those days the heedless child had taken but little interest 
in such narratives; but now her looks were involuntarily 
lifted as though in spite of the gloom; she must see traces 
of those towering wagons upon the stone arch curving over- 
head. 

In what light generally was she struck by the quiet court- 
yard of that old patrician house, since her eyes had been 
opened through study and instructive journeys! She 
paused, as though spell-bound, after she had run forward a 
few steps with rapidly beating heart. Beneath her feet dry 
leaves were rattling, her beloved linden-trees had grown 
mightily, and for the most part shed their leaves, while be- 
hind their triuiks loomed the dark walls of the ancient 
weaving-house. This evening, as upon a certain one of 
old, a great stream of light from the big lamp on the wall 
poured out of the kitchen windows; in a broad line it 
crossed the yard sideways as ever, vividly illumined a 
great part of the adjoining haunted wing, and lifted out of 
the evening gloom into pure whiteness the huge stone basin 
encircling the fountain in the middle of the yard. And 
that illuminated facade of the side-building jammed in be- 
tween the warehouse and the great sober main-building, so 
utterly devoid of architectural grace, to the surprise of the 
new-comer, displayed the noblest style of the Renaissance, 
.and the stern figure that in bold relief rose aloft above the 
four water-dispensing fountain-pipes, and at which Her- 
bert had once thrown pebbles, and later Reynold had done 
the same, was a finely carved nymph of the fairest propor- 
tions. Even more indignantly than of old did the young 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 75 

connoisseur in art condemn the vandalism of that throw- 
ing of stones. 

" The Thuringian Fugger " had been a name applied to 
the mercantile house of Lambert by the people, on account 
of its wealth. In the builder of that side-wing, however, 
with the fountain belonging to it, must have dwelt something 
of that taste for art which had d istinguished that renowned 
Augsburg linen-weaver. Only he had withdrawn his crea- 
tion from the public gaze in prond, bitter contempt of all 
fame and praise, and had erected it in seclusion, solely for 
his own satisfaction, to feast his own eyes. It was right 
so! The daughter of that ancient house had inherited her 
share of burgher pride along with their blood. At this 
moment of home-coming it had its share in the joyfully 
excited throbbing of her heart. Ah, yes! one was just a 
tiny bit proud. 

From the figure surmounting the fountain her glance 
strayed over to the kitchen window, and she experienced a 
lively sense of joy in beholding once more the familiar 
scene. To be sure there was no suggestion of Grecian 
laws of beauty there. Barbara emerged from the depths of 
the kitchen and stood in the bright lamplight. She was 
just as bearish, angular, and unpolished as of yore; her 
thin, gray hair twisted up in a little tight knot at the back 
of her head retained its distinguished position, and her 
tongue wagged as incessantly as ever, detached tones of 
her rough voice coming through the open window. Things 
seemed to be going on briskly in the kitchen at all events. 
Many hands must be busy in washing up china and glass, 
for there was an incessant clattering and rattling of dishes. 
Barbara and the man-servant were wiping plates, and a 
handsome young fellow in livery was running briskly to 
and fro. Undoubtedly there was a dinner-party going on. 
Margaret had noticed that the chandelier in the largo 
drawing-room on the parlor floor was lighted, on first step- 
ping out of the arch-way to the gate, where all was dark. 
This did not surprise her; Aunt Sophie had already told 
her when in Berlin, that something was always going on 
in the house now; that there was much intercourse between 
the ladies at court and the Counsellors, and that her papa 
was a character consequently in great request, and aunt's 
brown eyes had twinkled merrily while she told this. Any- 
how here was the best of opportunities for seeing their ex- 



70 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

cellencies as a whole, without herself being seen, as it were, 
from the recesses of a private-box at the theater. It was 
worth a trial. 

She passed through the front hall into the sitting-room. 
It was rather dusky there; the gaslight came in feebly 
through the window, and cast only one more intense spot 
of light upon the flat surface of one wall, also upon the 
dial-plate of the dear old tall clock in the corner. The 
slow, regular ticking of that old piece of furniture touched 
the heart of her who had just come home again like a 
salutation from some beloved human voice. 

Aunt Sophie was not there; of course she had her hands 
full upstairs; nevertheless, the whole of that large room 
was filled with the perfume of her favorite flowers. Upon 
the dining-table stood a huge bunch of stock-gilly flowers 
and mignonette, probably the last of the season from Aunt 
Sophie's own little garden before the gate. How homelike 
was all this. 

Margaret threw hat and mantle upon a chair, swung 
herself upon the high window-board, and looked out over 
the gaslit market-place. Everything looking just the 
same as when she had still worn children's shoes, and felt 
the sharp stones of the rough pavement under their soles, 

then that little town of B , with its complicated streets 

jealously guarded still by ancient walls of defense, this 
little provincial place had, for her, comprised the world in 
which, at any price, she desired to live and die! Every- 
thing was the same as it used to be, the moss-covered 
Neptune in the market-fountain, the corner house 
diagonally across, with its stone image above the arched 
door, which was to say that the owner of the house was 
authorized to brew beer. The shrill little clock in the 
council-house tower, that had just struck half after eight 
o'clock, the far-off tinkling of bells on the shop-doors, and 
also the noble thirst after knowledge displayed by the good 
country women who stood there, in a group on the street 
corner, stretching out their necks to see, while many of 
them held sleeping children in their arms, wrapped up in 
their ample cotton shawls; they could not be satisfied with 
gazing over at the chandelier burning up there in Lam- 
bert's best room, and bravely they chattered and cackled 
away. Theirs was the genuine article regular gossip at 
the street corner! 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 77 

The young lady deserted her post in the window-seat and 
laughed. She was doing not a whit better than that gos- 
siping crowd over there, for she was just about to slip up~ 
stairs and see all that this chandelier shone upon. 



CHAPTER VII. 

To enter unobserved proved to be no such difficult thing 
after all. The stairs were covered with rich new carpet- 
ing, that deadened the sound of every footfall. The before- 
mentioned servant in livery hurried up in advance of Mar- 
garet with a waiter full of seltzer-water. He did not 
perceive the young lady, and heedlessly left the door open 
quite wide enough for such a " slim witch," she thought 
to slip through unnoticed. 

The hall was sparingly lighted, but through the wide- 
open parlor-door streamed the glare from wax-candles, its 
broad stripe dividing the immense space into two halves, 
and at the moment when the servant entered with his 
bottles the open parlor-door, Margaret slipped behind him 
into the darkening background and stepped into one of 
the window niches. 

She could overlook a great part of the parlor, and really 
it was exactly as if she were sitting in a box at the theater, 
and seeing an interesting comedy acted. She could look 
straight into the face of the star of that amateur troop 
doubtless that young stranger at the table there hers was 
a pretty, round, and placidly smiling countenance sur- 
mounting a fat, fair neck, and broad, voluptuously beauti- 
ful shoulders. The young lady sat so that to the spectators 
outside, a famous old piece of the Lambert family plate 
seemed to stand close beside her. Of pure wrought silver, 
it represented a huge merchant ship, laden with fruit and 
flowers; the effect was that of a gorgeously colored paint- 
ing; nor were the flowers fresher than the dazzling tints of 
that fair maiden's complexion. "Well, it was not to be 
wondered at that grandmamma should " turn the house 
upside down" in furtherance of this new intimacy, as 
Aunt Sophie had expressed the state of affairs when in 
Berlin. To be permitted some day to call daughter-in-law 
a niece of the duke (albeit only the daughter of prince 



78 THE LADY WITH IHE EtBIES. 

Louis, by a marriage that was beneath him, he himself 
being out of the direct line of descent) far, far exceeded 
even grandmamma's boldest wishes! How was she bear- 
ing this superhuman bliss? 

Well, there reclined the ambitious old lady, at the small 
side of the table, with a proudly happy expression of coun- 
tenance, and her hands folded almost reverentially in her 
lap. No eyes had she for any one save the blonde beauty 
beside her only and idolized son, who had risen rapidly in 
the service of the state, step by step, until now at the age 
of twenty-eight, he was already a member of the board of 
counselors. How often, when a child, had Margaret heard 
her papa call him jocularly " our future minister of state!" 
Already he was near to that coveted goal, as Aunt Sophie 
had reported in Berlin. She had said that it was already 
bruited abroad in the country that a charge was in pros- 
pect. The statesman hitherto at the head of affairs was in 
bad health, and wished to go to the south. But mean 
people maintained that his excellency's illness was all 
stuff, the diagnosis proceeding not from a physician, but 
from a certain individual of high rank, and Mr. Counsel- 
lor, in spite of his really distinguished abilities, would, by 
no means, leap so suddenly into so lofty a position but 
for this same Lady Heloise von Taubeneck. " Yes, the 
world will wag her wicked tongue!" 

Therewith, these latest tidings from home had been con- 
cluded amid significant shrugs of the shoulder, but her 
aunt's eye had twinkled most mischievously at the same 
time. " Anyhow, Herbert has really become a distin- 
guished man/' she had made haste to add, "as though 
born to a high station, where one must be fenced in against 
the rabble." 

Yes, and moreover he had developed into a handsome 
man, such a figure as befits a diplomatist, with his self- 
poised balance of mind and manner. If she had suddenly 
met him in some strange place, she would probably have 
beeii struck by his appearance, but certainly not recognized 
him at the first glance. She had not seen him for a long 
while, perhaps not for fully seven years. When a student, 
he had mostly spent his vacations in traveling, and even' 
though he did come home, he was still the " accomplished 
studiosus/' who wore no beard as yet, and hence had no 
right to the dictatorially prescribed title of uncle, and so 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 79 

she had wisely kept out of his way, and he had never asked 
after her hiding-place; of course not, why should he? 

But now his beard was grown, a fine, dark, full beard 
slightly divided at the chin, and out of the despised student 
had arisen a real statesman, who was steering toward wed- 
lock with full sails, and would in a short time be giving 
her a new aunt. Then one could say " uncle " with a 
clear conscience yes, indeed, without any hesitation! The 
young girl in the dark window corner smiled roguishly, 
and allowed her eyes to stray further. 

When she first entered the front-hall a loud confusion 
of voices had met her ear, and she thought, too, that she 
had distinguished among them grandpapa's dear, coarse 
voice. Upon the servant's entrance, however, it had be- 
come more quiet, and now only a single female voice was 
to be heard, a pleasant but somewhat oily one; it seemed 
to dominate, as it were, and there was a perceptible con- 
descension in its tone, especially when there happened t<5 
be a question to answer. Margaret could not see the 
speaker; she might be sitting on papa's right hand, as was 
Miss Von Taubeneck his left hand neighbor. 

The invisible lady told of an occurrence at court prettily, 
as coming under her own observation, often interrupting 
herself with a " is it not so, my dear?" the fair Heloise 
always confirming her statement by a prompt and calm 
" l certainly, mamma." Then it must be the Baroness Von 
Taubeneck, Prince Louis' widow, who sat by papa's side. 
How proud he looked! That moody melancholy, which 
had ever anew alarmed his daughter whenever they had 
met, seemed this evening to have totally vanished from 
his handsome, although time-worn features. Evidently 
grandmamma was not the only one who basked in the sun- 
shine of prosperity, now rising upon their family. 

Mme. Von Taubeneck was just describing with increased 
animation how the duke's horse had made every exertion 
to throw his rider, when she suddenly hushed, and assumed 
the attitude of a listener. Above her tolerably loud voice, 
a musical tone floated into the room, a long-sustained 
note; it swelled and swelled, retaining, however, its 
spiritually tender and unearthly nature, until it suddenly 
broke off, to begin again on a key about a third lower. 

"Magnificent! What a voice!" cried Lady Von Tau- 
beneck in a whisper. 



80 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

'* Pshaw it is a young fellow, my lady, an impertinent 
boy who is forever showing off that voice of his!" said Rey- 
nold, who sat at the corner of the table by Mrs. Counsel- 
lor's side, his weak, immature voice trembling from re- 
strained passion. 

" Ah, you are right about that; that perpetual singing 
in the warehouse is quite too much for me, too!" added his 
grandmamma approvingly, casting an anxious look at the 
speaker. " But it never occurs to me to worry about it. 
Take it easily, Reynold ! The family in' the warehouse is 
a necessary evil so far as we are concerned, and one to 
which time reconciles. You too will learn that lesson." 

" No, grandmamma, never in the world!" declared the 
young man, while with nervous haste he folded up his 
napkin and threw it upon the table. 

" Fy, how violent you are," laughed Miss Von Tau- 
beneck what superb teeth she had! " Much ado about 
nothing! It is something incomprehensible to me that 
mamma should allow her sentence to be cut off by those 
few notes, but still less can I understand your Avrath, Mr. 
Lambert. I pay no attention to anything of the sort." So 
saying she raised her white arm, bared to the shoulder, 
selected a beautiful orange from the epergne, and began to 
peel it. 

Reynold's pale face colored a little he was evidently 
ashamed of his display of temper. " I am only vexed," 
said he, apologetically, " that we have to put up with that 
sing-song whether we like it or no. The vain fellow must 
see that we have company, and thinks he belongs to it too 
how brazen! He wants to be admired at any cost/' 

" You are much mistaken, if you think such a thing, 
Reynold!" said Aunt Sophie, passing along just behind 
him. She had been hitherto busy at the cotfee-urn, and a 
strong fragrance testified that she had discharged her office 
well. She presented in person the first cup poured out, 
to Lady Von Taubeneck. She wore her rich black-repped 
silk dress; her full suit of gray hair was arranged as ever, 
in two snowy puffs on each side of her fair brow, and over 
them fell a pretty cap of black point lace. She had quite 
a distinguished air, with her well-preserved figure, of 
medium height, and steady, graceful carriage. And tak- 
ing the sugar-dish from the table, she added: " Much 
oiat little thing is disturbing himself about us; he sings 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 81 

for himself as naturally as a bird of spring. That melody 
gushes spontaneously from his breast, and it is a perpetual 
delight to me. Such a voice as that is God-given, and a 
thing to rejoice over and exult in. Hear it, will you?" 

She looked speakingly across the table and nodded her 
head in the direction of the yard. 

" The heavens declare the glory of God the Eternal 
One," sung the boy over in the warehouse; a lovelier 
voice, perhaps, had never before hymned the praises of 
God. 

Keynold cast a look at his aunt that excited the lively 
I indignation of the unseen spectator. How dare you join 
in conversation of so select a circle as this? This question 
was written unmistakably in his haughty, almost colorless 
eyes, expressing also the most intense bitterness of feeling. 
Margaret knew that small, skinny face, in every movement 
of which the play of muscles drew such hard, sharp lines; 
as a child she had learned to study it anxiously out of sis- 
terly love, and, also, because the custom was to make her 
responsible for every outburst of passion on the part of the 
weakly boy. He had not altered; he had been always ac- 
customed to having his own way in consideration of his 
affliction; now, as of old, his boundless self-will drove the 
dark blood to his face; with nervous restlessness his hand 
stirred among the china and glass near him until the in- 
voluntary listener was startled by a sharp tinkling sound, 
as one piece jostled against the other. 

" I beg pardon. I was very awkward!" stammered he, 
with a gasp. " But that voice makes me quite nervous; 
it sounds to me just as when one draws his wet finger 
around the edge of a glass tumbler." 

" That must not be allowed, Keynold," said Herbert, 
soothingly. He stood up and came out into the front hali 
in order to close the parlor-door opposite to the open win- 
dows. 

Here again all was the same as it used to be. Reynold 
had always been Herbert's pet and protege, and, as the 
diligent student had once been eager to pur out of his 
sickly nephew's way anything that could vex or cross him, 
so to this very hour did the young statesman as well. 

Going along the hall he inspected each one of the win- 
dows, and thus came to Margaret's hiding-place. She 



82 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

pressed deeper into the dark recess, and, in so doing, he* 
silk dress rustled as it came in contact with the wall. 

" Is anybody here?" asked he, pricking up his ears. 

She laughed to herself. " Yes," said she, in a whisper; 
" but no robber or murderer, not Mistress Dorothea either, 
from the haunted room. You need not be frightened, 
Uncle Herbert, it is nobody but Gretchen from Berlin." 

So saying, she emerged from the window recess, a slen- 
er girl, who, with indolent grace bent forward a little so 
that her figure might come within the confirming light of 
the wax-tapers. 

Involuntarily he had started back, and stood gazing 
upon her as if he could not trust the evidence of his own 
eyes. " Margaret?" repeated he, uncertainly, in a query- 
ing tone; as he, somewhat slowly, extended her his hand 
she coolly laid hers in it and dropped it without pressure. 
A rather stiff salutation, truly, but one quite in keeping. 
" So you come home by night, in a shroud of gloom?" 
asked he further. " And nobody in the house knows of 
your coming?" 

Her dark eyes flashed indignantly. " Yes, I'll give you 
to know that I did not send a courier in advance a mode 
of traveling a little too expensive for my means and then 
I thought to myself they will be ready for you at home, 
even if you do cc/me unexpectedly." 

" Well, if I entertained a moment's doubt as to whether 
this young lady were actually unruly Gretchen, I am cer- 
tain of it now. You come back exactly as you went." 

" 1 hope so, uncle." 

He turned his face half aside; and it seemed as though a 
slight smile crossed his features. " But what about the 
present?" asked he. " Will you come in?" 

' ' Oh, dear, no ! The autumn dew upon my clothes, dust 
and soot upon my face, moreover, a draggled flounce upon 
my skirt, and a pair of torn gloves in my pocket; a brill- 
iant debut would I make in the midst of your elegant couit 
circle of dress suits and sweeping trains." She pointed 
into the parlor, where already a loud, lively conversation 
was in progress. "By no means, uncle. And I know 
you can find no fault with me on this score?" 

" Well, as you choose," said he, shrugging his shoulders 
with cool indifference. " Would you like me to send papa 
to you out here, or Aunt Sophie?" 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 83 

" God forbid!" Involuntarily she leaned further for- 
ward, and stretched out her hand to detain him; as she did 
go, her head came into the full glare of the wax light a 
fine, attractive head, encircled by dark ringlets. "God 
for!) id; what are you thinking of? Both are much too 
dear for me to be satisfied with a greeting in the dark! I 
must see their faces clearly; must see if they too rejoice. 
And should those people over there needs know that you 
have caught me eavesdropping, as it were, I am enough 
ashamed without that. But the lights here allured me too 
temptingly; and so the silly moth flew in. I am going 
away now. I have seen enough!" 

" Ah! Well, what have you seen?" 

" Oh, a great deal of beauty, real admirable beauty, 
uncle! But much exaltation, too; much condescension; 
too much for our house." 

" Your family do not find it so," said he, sharply. 

" It seems so," assented she, shrugging her shoulders. 
" They are much cleverer than I am too. The benight- 
ment of my ancestors, those old dealers in linen, adheres 
to me still. I do not love to accept favors." 

He moved away from her. " I shall be obliged to leave 
you to your . own devices," said he, dryly, with a slight, 
stiff nod of the head. 

" Oh, please! Just one second more. Were I the lady 
with the rubies, then I might vanish without danger, and 
need not incommode you; but as it is, I must trouble you 
to close the parlor door for one minute, so that I can get 
past." 

He stepped quickly up to the door, caught hold of both 
wings, and drew them together as he disappeared on the 
other side. Margaret flew through the hall; she could 
hear that a unanimous protest was made against shutting 
the door; and ere she had closed the outer door behind 
her, she saw the two wings of the folding-door part slowly 
and the head of a bearded man bent cautiously forth that 
he might see if the fugitive had found her way out 
funny! The stuck-up courtier and unmanageable Gretchen 
in a plot together! Ten minutes before she would not 
have dreamed that such a thing were possible. 

She was welcomed by a shriek when she again entered 
the dimly lighted sitting-room. 

" Compose yourself, Barbara!" cried Margaret, laugh- 



84 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

ing; and advancing as far as the threshold of the brightly 
lighted kitchen. " I am not a bit like the lady in the red 
parlor, nor as transparent as the famous Mistress Judith 
of the cobweb gown; you see I am not. Come here and 
shake hands with me, good, trusty soul; how often have I 
longed to see you! There!" she stretched out her pretty 
little hand, " feel, it is warm, real flesh and blood. You 
can grasp it with a good conscience." 

And " the trusty old soul " was presently wild for joy. 
She not only seized the hand held out to her, but shook it 
until the young lady's -senses nearly forsook her, and tears 
started in her eyes. 

Yes, five years had flown by, nobody knows how. And 
out of Gretchen had grown up a perfect young lady. And 
out of what stuff! 

" Many a time she has pounced upon my broad back 
like a wild cat from behind, when I was busy over my 
wash-tub, not dreaming of such a trick," said she to the 
kitchen-maid, laughing and wiping the tears out of her 
eyes; " yes, every time the scare tumbled me right over! 
But," here her loud, sharp voice sunk into a whisper, " one 
thing you ought not to do, Miss Gretchen. I mean com- 
pare yourself with such as those up in the passage yonder. 
I do nothing of the sort; but I tell you, all the same, that 
you look pale! Oh, so pale!" 

Margaret with difficulty restrained her laughter. Here 
too all was as in the olden time. And why not? the cor- 
ners of her mouth quivered rather satirically. " There is 
no fault to be found with us, we are good conservatives/' 
as aunt always said when Reynold so carefully collected the 
broken arms and legs of my dolls and respected them as 
old property. You are right, Barbara, pale I am, but 
robust enough to do battle, tooth and nail, against those 
ghosts of yours. And you shall soon see my cheeks round 
and rosy when I have tasted sufficiently of these fine Thur- 
ingian breezes. But, hark!" Again through the open 
window came floating the tones of a boyish voice. " Now 
tell me who that is singing over there in the warehouse?" 

" It is little Max, a grandchild of the old Mays. His 
parents are dead, they say, and his grandparents have 
taken him to live with them. He goes to school here; and 
must be a son's child, for his name is May. More I can 
not tell you. You know what quiet people they are, and 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 85 

whether they are glad or sorry not a Christian knows any- 
thing about it. And our master, Mrs. Counsellor, too, 
can not bear any of us to act as if people lived in the ware- 
house. It is because of that gossip, you know, Miss 
Gretchen; and it is all right that a house like ours should 
not be made common. The little boy, indeed, asks often 
as to what is the custom with us. It is a fine child, Miss 
Gretchen; a boy of sharp wits. But, from the very first 
day, being nothing to me and nothing to you, he ran right 
down in the yard and played about as if the place belonged 
to him, just as you and Mr. Reynold used to do when you 
were children." 

" Bravo, my young man! A valiant little fellow. 
There is sense and power in that," nodded Margaret to 
herself. " But what does grandmamma say to this?" 

" Oh, Mrs. Counsellor takes it ill enough; and as to the 
young gentleman; dear, dear!" and r^.o waved her hand 
" there is a plenty of bad blood there! But they get no 
good by their opposition at all; and clear as it all was, the 
master had no ears. I really beti.ve that in the beginning 
he did not notice the child running all about wherever it 
chose to; he is always so buried in thought; it all comes 
from that taint in the family blood, young lady, that, and 
nothing else ! To be sure it does, and such folks many a 
time see nothing, be it to the right or left; and they have 
no eyes for any living creature. But when finally the 
thing was forced upon his attention, he said that the child 
might play around wherever he pleased; the yard was big 
enough; and there the matter has stood, and the bone had 
to be swallowed." 

She took a pin out of her neck-handkerchief and made 
fast a loose ribbon upon the young lady's dress; then she 
tied more neatly the lace bow at her throat, and with both 
hands, stroked down her somewhat crumpled silk dress. 
" There! it will do so!" said she, stepping back. " You 
will do to appear up there ! So unexpectedly, and in the 
midst of that grand company." 

Margaret shook her head until her curls fairly flew. 

This was not at all according to the old cook's views. 
"'It is extra fine up there this evening," she suggested; 
and when the champagne was poured out, all would be 
made up, she fancied, between the lady of the court and 
Mr. Herbert. " A splendid couple they will be, Miss 



86 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Gretchen, and a great honor to the family." Thus shn 
wound up her communications, adding, " I have seen 
nothing myself of all this pomp and glory, because I stick 
to my kitchen down here; but those envious people in 
town say that when it is brought about, Mrs . Counsellor 
will fairly burst from pride. Yes, how they tattle. Peo- 
ple can riot be prudent enough." 

With these words, she took a table-lamp from the shelf, 
.n order to light it for Margaret; but the young lady for- 
oade all illumination. She wanted to wait in the dark 
until the assembly up there had broken up; and again re- 
sumed her place in the drawing-room window -seat. 
Gretchen sat in the dark room and thought; and to all 
that flew through her young head the old clock responded 
with its regular, monotonous tick-tick, and calmed, as it 
were, the high-surging billows in her soul. Reynold's- 
hatefulness, and his and her grandmother's haughtiness 
made her blood boil; but she trampled down this feeling 
no, she would let nothing imbitter her home-coming to her 
father's house. Away with that unrefreshing perception. 

There was the beautiful face of that young lady from 
court, there was nothing exciting about that. She must 
either be of very superior understanding or of a phlegmatic 
nature, that duke's niece, with her indescribable repose of 
feature and gesture. Earlier one had hardly ever been 
conscious of the existence of such a being as Heloise Von 
Taubeneck. Prince Louis had held a high military post 
in Prussia, and been stationed at Coblentz. Only seldom 
had he come to his native court; and Prince's Court, the 
country palace placed at the disposal of the princes related 
to the ducal house, had for long years stood unoccupied. 
It lay outside the city at the foot of a hill formerly forti- 
fied, the top of which was still crowned by a few ruinous 
walls. It was a one-storied rococo building, with mansard 
roof and the necessary appendages and stables, which were 
completely lost to view beneath the shade of glorious old 
nut-trees, while, facing the decorated front extended a 
pretty parterre of grass sod, adorned with flower-beds and 
statuary. From the Millbrook pavilion Prince's Court 
was but a stone's throw. 

Now, it was once more inhabited; and Aunt Sophie had 
frequently mentioned this change when in Berlin. After 
the death of Prince Louis, his widow had been glad enough 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 6? 

to " find a retreat " here, as the villagers had drastically 
enough expressed it; for the deceased had left her as good 
as nothing of personal property, and her widow's pension 
was but small. But, as was well known, the ducal pair 
entertained a warm affection for their young widowed 
niece; and it might well happen, from this reason more 
especially, that means of subsistence were furnished the 
two ladies, and privileges accorded them usually restricted 
to those who were their equals in birth. 

Truly, the equipage which had just dashed across the 
market and stopped before the door was elegant enough to 
be a princely gift. The cabriolet sparkled and glittered in 
the gaslight, and the fiery steeds stamped the ground and 
pawed from impatience. This lasted some while, until 
finally the company upstairs was pleased to break up, the 
sound of voices was heard as the company came down the 
steps, and the great wings of the front-door were thrown 
back in order to flood the pavement with strong light flow- 
ing from the hall-lamp. 

In this bright illumination appeared first the Baroness 
Von Taubeneck, waddling to the carriage on Herbert's 
arm. She was excessively corpulent; and the daughter fol- 
lowing her might later resemble her in this r-espect. Now, 
indeed, her tall, full figure was still beautiful and sym- 
metrical in its proportions. She drew her black lace man- 
tle more closely over her blonde hair, that fell very low 
upon her forehead, calmly seated herself beside her panting 
mamma, and with cool indifference looked down upon the 
rest of the guests, who, once more repeating their farewells, 
crowded around the carriage to disperse in all directions 
afterward. 

Herbert had stepped back immediately with a low bow; 
that did not look as if the betrothal had actually taken 
place. Mrs. Counsellor, on the contrary, had taken the 
young lady's hands between her own, pressed them while 
she continued to speak warmly, almost passionately, and 
suddenly, as if overpowered by tenderness, drew the gloved 
hand right to her face, whether to press it to her lips or 
cheek Margaret could not distinguish. 

Involuntarily she withdrew from the window. Hot 
blood mounted to her temples; in the depths of her soul 
ehe felt ashamed for that white-haired old lady who lost so 



88 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

completely her accustomed pride and dignity in the pres- 
ence of so young a creature as that one yonder. 

Quite imbittered she sprung from her perch at the win- 
dow. To what a wretchedly contracted mode of thought 
and action had she not returned? Was it for this that she 
had taken that wide flight into far-off lands and ancient 
days, and intoxicated herself upon that spirit which had 
ilowered in humanity, to such glorious ideals, fraught with 
a noble perception of beauty, and instinct with thirst after 
freedom; had she experienced all this, to see here such re- 
pulsive sycophancy, and to learn how spiritually poor man 
can become? No, the cage was too narrow! Neither would 
she sacrifice the extremest wing-tips of her soaring spirit 
in order to fit herself to it. That which was pervading 
and demoralizing the whole of modern life, viz., servility, 
worship of power, and unblushing adulation, with a view 
to win the favor of influential personages, such were now 
the ghosts that haunted the house of Lambert, against 
which she had to arm every power of her being. 

Verily, " that beautiful lady with the rubies," who had 
forfeited the rest of the grave, because of warm, uncal- 
culating love alone, stood aloft, compared with these petty 
souls! 



CHAPTEK VIII. 

THE carriage outside drove away from the door. Mar- 
garet deserted the drawing-room; but she did not fly to 
meet her family, as she would have done at first. As 
though chilled, she slowly descended the few stairs leading 
down into the entrance hall. 

Herbert seemed as if he wanted to go straight upstairs; 
and the councilor of commerce was crossing the thresh- 
old on his way into the hall. Upon his face might still be 
seen the reflection of gratified pride, consequent upon the 
honor which had just befallen his house. He started at 
sight of Margaret, but immediately afterward, with a cry 
of joy, spread out his arms and clasped his returned daugh- 
ter to his heart. And again there was a smile upon her 
lips. 

" Is that really you, Gretchen?" exclaimed Mrs. Coun- 
sellor, who came in just at this moment escorted by Rey- 
nold. " So entirely contrary to all expectation." 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 89 

She dropped the train that she was carefully holding 
above the floor with her taper fingers, and it rustled as it 
fell; she extended her right hand to her, and, with digni- 
fied grace, turned her cheek up to her for a kiss. Her 
granddaughter did not seem to observe this. She touched 
her grandmother's hand with her lips, and then flung her 
arms around her brother's neck. Yes, she was seriously 
angry with him awhile ago. But he was her only brother, 
and he was sick; that trickish malady had robbed him of 
his youth, destroying all the charm and poetry of his heav- 
enly, fair, eighteen summers. And how restlessly, how 
feverishly heaved that narrow chest, close to which she 
fondled ! How his body shivered beneath the breath of the 
cool night air that blew in from the market! 

" Let us go upstairs. This draughty hall is a poor place 
of assembly!" warned the councilor of commerce. Again 
he laid his arm upon Margaret's shoulder, and, with her, 
mounted the stairs after Herbert, who was a good many 
steps in advance of them. 

" A great girl!" said her papa, with a look of fatherly 
pride measuring the youthful form at his side. 

" Yes, she is right well grown," agreed her grandmam- 
ma, who was slowly following on Reynold's arm. "Are 
you not reminded in her of Fanny's ways and looks, Bald- 
win?" 

" No, not by any means. Gretchen has a regular Lam- 
bert face," replied he; and his brow darkened. 

Up in the great parlor Aunt Sophie was standing at a 
side-table, counting into a basket the silver that had been 
used. Her whole face beamed as Margaret flew up to her. 
" Your bed is ready in the identical place where, as a child, 
you slept off all your wild and merry pranks," said she, 
after she had recovered breath under the young girl's im- 
petuous caresses. " And in the yard-room next to it it is . 
right cozy and comfortable, just as you used to like it so 
much." 

"A plot, then?" remarked Mrs. Counsellor, who was 
ever on the watch. " Aunt Sophie was the confidante, 
and the rest of us had to stand back until the great mo- 
ment had come!" She shrugged her shoulders and 
dropped into the chair nearest at hand. " Would that this 
great moment had only come earlier, Gretchen! But your 
return at this time accomplishes really nothing. Within 



90 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

the next fortnight the court moves back to M ; a 

presentation then is hardly to be thought of." 

" Be glad of it, grandmamma. I would not bring you 
the least bit of honor. You can hardly believe what a 
scary thing I am; what a horridly stupid creature when I 
lose courage. I might manage to hold my ground in pres- 
ence of our dear old sovereigns; they are mild and gentle, 
and would never willingly frighten a timid mortal. But 
as for the rest ; ' She broke off and involuntarily drew 
her hand through her hair. " But I did not come on any 
such account as that, grandmamma; it is the Christmas- 
tree that has attracted me. Christmas in the drawing- 
room. I am sick of all the fine confectionery and sumptu- 
ously bound books that Aunt Eliza buys no end of for her 
tree. I long to live through another of those evenings of 
preparation, when it was snowing and storming out of 
doors, while inside the warm room nuts were rattling on 
the table, gold leaf was flying around, and through the 
key-holes and cracks in the door came the fragrance of 
home-baked crullers and other delicious things. The pret- 
tiest thing will be lacking, though, viz., Aunt Sophie's 
covered work-basket, from which peeped forth now and 
tuen a bit of doll's finery; and, alas! I have outgrown pict- 
ure-books too. But one thing I can enjoy as much as 
ever, and that is one of Barbara's horse-cakes " 

" Childishness!" pettishly ejaculated Mrs. Counsellor. 
" Shame on you, Gretchen. You come back not one whit 
improved!" 

" Yes, Uncle Herbert has just told me the same thing." 

" Not in that sense," coolly assented that young gentle- 
man. He had entered the parlor with the rest, had so far 
remained perfectly passive, and stood just in front of the 
eperyne, where he was cautiously parting fruits and flowers 
in order to examine the better the wonderful workmanship 
of the silver vessel. Could it be possible that Herbert had 
never seen before that familiar old piece of family plate? 

" What, have you spoken to uncle already?" asked P 
nold in great astonishment, looking up from the pear tha\ 
he was peeling. " How is that possible?" 

" Very easily, brother, since I was up here in person a 
little while ago." 

" Not with the intention of coming in?" exclaimed Mrs. 
Counsellor with open horror. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 91 

" Not with that tousled hair and hideous old black 
gown?" added Reynold with a grotesque gesture of dis- 
gust. " You have certainly learned to trick yourself out 
famously in that dear Berlin of yours, Gretchen!" 

Margaret laughed, and looked down at her dress. " Do 
not afflict yourself, Eeynold, it is not my only and best/' 
She moved her skirt from side to side, critically inspecting 
it, and then said, shrugging her shoulders: " Poor dear 
old frock! It is no longer brand-new, it is true. It has> 
had to creep with me through the pyramids and cata- 
combs, and often been wetted through by glacier-ice and 
mountain rains, good old companion! Now I have been 
ashamed of it and disowned it. Uncle Herbert can testify 
that I did not feel as if my toilet would justify intrusion 
upon such high company ' 

" For heaven's sake, child, do me this one favor, and 
never pass your hand through your hair in that tom-boyish 
fashion!" interposed her grandmamma. " A dreadful 
habit! What put such a wild idea into your head as to cut 
your hair short?" 

" I had to, grandmamma; and it did not happen with- 
out a few briny tears being shed, I must admit. But often 
it was enough to make one desperate when plaiting my hair 
took no end of time, and there would be Uncle Theobald 
tearing up and down like somebody wild before my door, 
full of impatience and anxiety lest we should be left by 
the train or post-chaise. And so I made short work of it 
when we were setting out for Mount Olympus, and 
grabbed up the shears. I would have been shaven bald 
had it been needful, so impatient and eager was I myself 
to go forward. Never mind, though, grandmamma, it is 
not such a bad case after all. This wild hair of mine 
grows like any weed; and before you know, there will be 
quite a respectable queue there again." 

" You can afford to wait, of course," dryly remarked 
the old lady. " Madness, outright madness!" She then 
broke forth angrily, " Aunt Eliza should have interfered 
and blocked that game!" 

" Aunt? Dear me, grandmamma, she is worse off than 
I am! Hers is at least a hand -breadth shorter than this," 
with a mischievous smile she pulled out one of her ring- 
lets to its full length. 

" Well, truly, you must lead a fine gypsy life of it upon 



92 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

your learned tours I" cried the old lady indignantly, nerv- 
ously stroking together a few crumbs of pastry that lay 
upon the table-cloth. " How my sister consents to incom- 
mode herself so for the sake of her husband's calling I can 
not understand. What becomes of a wife's right to her 
own pleasant position in life? Well, it is her own affair. 
' As one makes his bed, so he must lie/ But what is to be 
done now? Only give another look at that girl, Baldwin! 
Years may pass before she is again presentable. I ask 
you, Gretchen, how will you manage to fasten even a 
flower upon such a head as that, much less a piece of 
jewelry? That star of rubies, for example, which used to 
be so excessively becoming to your poor dear mamma." 

" Ah, that star set with rubies? The one which the fair 
Dorothea in the red parlor wears on her toupee?" asked 
Margaret eagerly. 

" Yes, Gretchen, the same," said the councilor of com- 
merce, who had so far kept silence, and just swallowed 
down hastily a glass of champagne. He had turned pale; 
but his eyes glowed beneath their heavy brows, and his 
fingers clutched the glass until it seemed as if it would be 
shivered to atoms. " I love you heartily, child, and will 
give you every desire of your heart; but you may as well 
dismiss that ruby star from your mind while I live, no 
other woman shall ever wear it!" 

Mrs. Counsellor covered her eyes with her handkerchief, 
and with the corners of her mouth drawn down until she 
was the picture of melancholy, she sighed forth: 

" I understand. I comprehend you, dear, dear Bald- 
win," said she in deeply sympathetic tones. " You loved 
Fanny too much!" 

A bitter smile crossed his face, and he drew up his broad 
shoulders as though he would shake off an intolerable load. 
The glass clattered as he dashed it on the table, and went 
with disordered steps into the adjoining room, slamming 
the door behind him. 

" Poor man!" said Mrs. Counsellor mysteriously, shad- 
ing her veiled eyes for a moment with her hand. " I am 
inconsolable over my awkwardness. I ought never to have 
touched that never-healing wound. And just this evening 
he was so bright, I might say, so proudly happy! I have 
seen him smile again for the first time in many years. 
Ah! but we have tasted of joy for a few delightful, never- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 93 

to-be-forgotten hours! But I must say, dearest Sophie, 
that one thing fairly agonized me now and then ' ' The 
soft clinking of the silver behind her ceased. Aunt Sophie 
hearkened most dutifully to what was coming next " The 
dishes were served too slowly. My son-in-law will have to 
provide more helping hands upon such occasions ' 

" No, indeed, grandmamma; what would it not cost?" 
protested Reynold. " "We have our allowance for things of 
the sort, and it must not be exceeded on any account. 
Frank must just stir up his lazy bones, that is all. I'll 
put a coal of fire on his back next time!" 

His grandmother did not speak. She picked up a 
couple of half withered roses that Miss Von Taubeneck had 
held in her hand, and dropped at her place, and stuck her 
sharp little nose into it. She never directly contradicted 
her excitable grandson. " There was another thing, too, 
that troubled me, in the course of the repast, dearest 
Sophie," said she, across the back of her arm-chair, " was 
not the menu got up on rather too substantial a basis? 
Not quite stylish enough, you know, my love, for our noble 
guests? And the roast beef was by no means as fine as it 
might have been." 

" Really, you need not distress yourself, Mrs. Coun- 
sellor," answered Aunt Sophie, "with her brightest smile. 
" The bill of fare was made to agree with the time of year; 
and only a rogue gives more than he has. And the roast 
beef was good, like all that is served at our table. The 
court butcher tells me that they never see such a fine cut 
as that the whole year round at Prince's Court." 

" Ah! hem!" coughed Mrs. Counsellor, for a second bury- 
ing her face in the roses. " Ah, this delicious perfume!" 
lisped she. " Only see, Herbert, this white tea rose is a 
novelty from Luxemburg, as Miss Von Taubeneck told 
me. Something extra, got by the duke expressly for 
Prince's Court/' 

The young gentleman took the rose. He considered its 
form, tried its perfume, and gave it back to his mother 
without betraying the slightest emotion. 

No one would have recognized him for the same man 
who had once been so enraptured by the sight of such a 
white rose as to possess himself of it 'by force, and refuse to 
give it up on any account. Margaret had never been able 
to forget that enigmatical proceeding; and now it was no 



91 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

riddle to her at all; the former collegian had evidently 
been in love with the pretty young lady over in the ware- 
house. It had been a case of romantic school-boy love, at 
which he would, of course, smile compassionately now 
from his lofty standpoint. The time for poetry was long 
since passed, and the stern prose of dry, calculating reason 
had taken its place. 

There was papa, how different! who had just taken ref- 
uge with his grief in the next room. He could not forget. 
Her heart melted within her from compassion and warm, 
childlike love. Hardly knowing that she did so, she noise- 
lessly opened the door which he had closed behind him, and 
slipped into the room. 

The councilor of commerce stood motionless in the twi- 
light of the window niche, where fell only a faint reflection 
from the hanging lamp; and he seemed to be looking out 
upon the market-place. The thick carpet made her light 
girlish step inaudible; and so she stood suddenly beside the 
self-absorbed man and laid her hand soothingly upon his 
shoulder. 

He started and turned as though her touch had been a 
blow, and stared his daughter in the face with wild, dis- 
tracted gaze. 

"Child!" he stammered, "you have a way of laying 
your hand like ' 

" Like my poor mamma?" 

He closed his lips tightly, and turned off. 

Pmt she nestled closer up to him. " Let your Gretchen 
be, papa! Do not send her away!" implored she fondly 
and fervently. " Grief is a poor companion; and I shall 
not leave you alone with it. Papa, I am twenty years old 
right aged already, you see; and have knocked about in 
\ the outside world quite enough. I have heard and seen a 
great deal, have always kept eyes wide open to everything 
great and grand, and treasured up many lessons, as Aunt 
Sophie says. And the world is so wondrously beautiful." 

" Child, do not I live in the world as well?" He point- 
ed to the adjoining parlor. 

" I wonder, though, if any people can actually and 
truly lift you out of your darkness of soul?" 

He laughed a hard laugh. " Anything else than that! 
One can onlv hope with soul shut in to find distrac- 
tion now and then. To be sure, misery comes back with 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 95 

redoubled force afterward, and plunges the poor soul into 
abysses so much the deeper." 

" Well, then, I would not expose myself to such influ- 
ences, papa," said she, fixing upon him an earnest look. 

A shadow of mockery passed over his dark face, while 
he stroked her hair with his hand. " My little wiseacre, 

?)u speak, according to your light, as if that were so easy, 
ou have crept through catacombs and pyramids, and, 
hand in hand with your Berlin uncle, traced out in Troy 
and Olympia the mode of life and thought in the ancient 
world; but you know little or nothing of modern life. No- 
body is satisfied nowadays with his own self-esteem. To 
him who wants to be esteemed as somebody, something of 
that sunshine is also indispensable which comes from the 
highest circles." 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

" That is indeed in comprehensible to me," said she; and 
the blood mounted into her face. " However, I know 
more of modem life than you imagine, papa. Uncle in 
Berlin suffers nothing questionable in his house that 
groping in the dark only clear-headed people resort 
thither, and candid talk comes freshly and freely from the 
heart. For instance, not long ago a gentleman said there, 
* Ah, yes, they call it encouraging class-hatred if we rise 
up and do battle against the oppression threatening. My 
soul is pure from hatred let others mount high as they 
will I look at them without envy; only let them not, in 
so doing, stand upon our bodies. But that is just tbe 
thing; as they mount, their power grows, and delight in 
trampling upon us increases. But even for this I do not 
hate them : I set down the account to the credit of the 
past. Their aversion to aiding the commoner, or ratlier 
the struggle to keep him under, is in their blood, if tradition 
reports truly. On the contrary, I feel rage, uncontrolla- 
ble rage, against those dastardly deserters from our own 
ranks, who meanly and for the sake of their own personal 
advantage, fight against their own flesh and blood, and 
rage so much the more fiercely because they must be con- 
scious that they are despised by the honorable remnant/ 
So said doctor ' 

" Another one who finds the grapes sour," remarked the 
councilor of commerce, smiling ironically; " a moth that 
could not burn his wings simply because it durst not come 



96 THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 

near to the light. It is once more hovering in danger- 
ous proximity, my dear Gretchen. We are just children 
of our times and no Spartans. And. although wrong 
things may have accomplished it ten times ovet, and 
although sycophancy come to light in the boldest, most re- 
pulsive manner, yet, in spite of all that, the world admire; 
the decorated button-hole, and reverentially calls the syco- 
phant by the new title to which he has sacrificed his self- 
respect. To the number of those servile beings assuredly 
I do not belong. I want nothing, nor need I ever degrade 
myself, for never have I felt it to be my calling to enter 
the arena as a gladiator and make myself ridiculous with 
tirades against the aristocracy. It is a matter of the under- 
standing; but that uncontrollable shyness, that involuntary 
bending before the opinion and dictum of people of high 
station is constitutional with me. It is stronger than I 
am. I can not help it. I can not rise superior to it with 
the very best will and the exertion of all my strength." 

He suddenly left the young girl standing alone in the 
recess of the window, and strode up and down the room 
almost wildly. " Yes, he who can suddenly shake off 
everything prejudices of birth and education and shows 
himself as he truly is in matters of feeling and opinion, 
just as much as if he were unseen on a desert island, I tell 
you that man " he broke off with a passionate gesture. 

This maiden's energy and decision of character had evi- 
dently made him forget for a moment that it was his 
young daughter before whom he was giving vent to his 
pain. 

" Go down now, my child!" said he, restraining him- 
self. " You must be tired and hungry. I am afraid that 
nobody has yet offered you anything. And you are not to 
eat, either, of the remains of the meal on that table. 
Aunt Sophie shall fix you a comfortable dish of tea, and 
you love to be with her best, too. You are right, Gretchen, 
there is gold, pure gold, and iiobody can shake me from 
that conviction, however often they try to make me sus- 
pect it. How hot your hand is, child! And how your face 
glows, pale as it commonly is! Yes, you see, you brave 
little townswoman, that politics ; 

" Politics? Oh, papa! I am nothing but a poor simple 
little girl; what have I to do with politics? I was only 
repeating after somebody else!" She smiled roguishly. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 97 

" Please do not think that Gretchen wants to usurp the 
province of a man. Heaven forbid ! But I think that the 
question here concerns all humanity,- it is one of right and 
wrone% Moral courage and cowardice, proper pride and 
meanness of spirit. And were your representation of the 
spirit of our times accurate, and so to remain forever, then 
rather would one have been a mummy of Memphis or 
Thebes and lived thousands of years before. But that is 
not true I' She shook her head energetically. " In spite 
of all you say, we live at a great period, when we must 
"truggle with a mightily rushing surge. Uncle Theobold 
is always saying, ' The good and genuine will come to the 
top, and the dirty scum that contention now drives to the 
surface, will not glitter forever and blind the weak. ' And 
you are not to show how you feel? Lock yourself in out of 
fear of man? You, an independent man, not to be allowed 
to be peaceful and content after your own ideas? What 
good will be done you by favor and grace from without, 
when inwardly you are starved and perishing " 

He suddenly drew her beneath the hanging lamp, bent 
back her head, and with darkly threatening glances looked 
deep into her eyes that met his freely and fearlessly. " Is 
this clear-sightedness, or am I being deceived? No, my 
Gretchen has always been honorable and truthful! There 
is no falsehood here!" And again he threw his arm around 
her waist. " My brave girl. I believe you would be the 
only one in the family to stand by me if I should come 
under the ban of the world's censure " 

" Of course, papa, you are right in that!" 

" Would you help me to overcome an unhappy weak- 
ness?" 

" As a matter of course, with all my might, papa. Just 
put me to the test! I have courage enough for two. Here 
is my hand; we'll stand by one another!" A lovely smile, 
half mischievous, half earnest, played about her lips. He 
kissed her on the forehead, and a few seconds afterward 
she again entered the parlor. 

Aunt Sophie was no longer there. She had gone down- 
stairs with her silver-basket, and, at all events, was getting 
the tea-table ready as fast as possible. The servant was 
just extinguishing the lights of the chandelier and Eeynold 
was taking the confectionery, piece by piece, from the crys- 
tal dishes and laying them, carefully sorted, in different 



98 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

glass jars, to be locked up and put away, Pit Mrs. Coun- 
sellor sat comfortably ensconced among plusu cushions be- 
hind the sofa-table, because it was horribly cool upstairs, 
through long continued airing, but down here it was so 
snug and warm, as she said. 

Grandmamma and brother therefore had not much time 
for the newly arrived, and the "good-night" of both 
sounded cold and indifferent. 

The young girl missed nothing, nothing at all. She 
was glad to have come off so cheaply for this time; she had 
finished up here. Only as she passed out through the 
dimly lighted hall she noticed some one standing in the 
window, apparently looking down into the yard. Herbert! 
She had thought no more about him; her heart and head 
had been too full puzzling over the strange mood in which 
she had just seen her father. To one of her clear, decided 
way of thinking and feeling, such a dark mysterious con- 
flict of soul was something quite incomprehensible a 
human soul thus divided and torn might well be hard to 
understand. She wondered if it could be possible that 
memory held possession of that cold dignified man for a lit- 
tle minute, and leading him to gaze upon the spot where 
once the golden hair of the beautiful Blanche had gleamed 
through the green leaves of her bower? 

" Good-night, Margaret/' said he to her in a different 
tone from those two preoccupied people in the parlor. 

" Good-night, uncle." 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE room opening on the yard had always had something 
very attractive about it for Margaret. It was on the 
ground-floor of the haunted wing of the house, and was 
close to the chamber formerly occupied by the children. 
A rather dark passage like the uncanny one above it ran 
behind the chambers, likewise making a bend around the 
corner, and separated the kitchen from the drawing-room. 

There was no connection between the two stories; there 
was, fortunately, no staircase there; consequently no one 
need entertain any apprehension, lest the white lady or 
the one in cobweb attire should take a fancy to slip down 
it and steal in, as Barbara was always saying. The suite 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 99 

of rooms in the lower story was interrupted in its midst by 
a door leading out into the yard a great heavy door, with 
massive knockers, and both sides flanked by stone figures 
in alto relievo. Broad stairs led from it down to the gravel 
walk, which intersected the grass-plot and ran directly to 
the fountain. 

In the yard-room all the furniture was rococo in style, 
and belonged to Aunt Sophie. Every piece was polished 
as bright as a mirror; the brass studs glittered, and the old 
family pieces of Meissen china, that had been ofttimes 
cemented stood upon the shelves of the glass presses, and 
upon the secretary with its tall appendages full of innumer- 
able little drawers. This room, so to speak, was Aunt 
Sophie's treasure-chest her best room and immaculately 
neat and orderly, as only can be the apartment of a brisk, 
lively old maid. Upon this occasion all the finely painted 
cups and vases standing around to the very pot pourris 
themselves were filled with great bunches of flowers from 
the small garden in front of the door; the gay flower-beds 
must have been fully stripped to do honor to the newly re- 
turned member of the family; and upon the white plank 
floor, which had never been stained by a coating of varnish, 
lay a new, warm carpet, which had been bought with Aunt 
Sophie's own means. 

And the long-absent darling of her old heart had no 
sooner entered and. beheld all the dear, well-known family 
relics, made visible by lamplight, than she fell upon her 
aunt's neck and well-nigh smothered her with caresses. 
The bed, too, had been fixed in its old place; and Aunt 
Sophie sat beside her a long while after she had retired and 
talked only of what was cheerful and pleasant for not 
one note of discord was to mar the harmony of their re- 
union. And each of the pauses made by her mellow, 
jovial voice had been filled by the monotonous old song of 
the fountain, the splashing of its gushing waters being 
heard from the yard; every now and then, too, had been 
audible the sharp creaking of the warehouse gate as it 
opened and shut; and then the former little hoyden who 
had been so far, far away, and returned so much enriched 
in mind and heart, had lain asleep upon her pillow with a 
face as sweetly innocent as though she had only been out 
at Millbrook and come home to rest after running until 
she was tired. 



100 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Yes, beloved Millbrook! Now again the going to and 
fro begins. Grandpapa had not been at the entertainment; 
as Mrs. Counsellor remarked, with some pique, he had, as 
lie always did, " a\ oided that select circle for good reasons 
of his own/' 

The next morning Gretchen was astir betimes, walk- 
ing through the dewy stubble-fields to Millbrook, although 
her papa assured her that the old gentleman would come 
in in the afternoon, having an appointment with him to 
go partridge-shooting. 

And the meeting out there had been even more delight- 
ful than the young girl had pictured it to herself in Berlin. 
Yes, she was his pet still. The grand old man, rude in 
feature and blunt in manner, had been quite mild and 
tender; he would have loved the best in the world to treat 
her like a little doll and set her up on his broad palm, to 
be admired by the gaping work-people. She had stayed 
until past noon, and the superintendent's wife had had 
some of her finest omelets fried ; but her still more famous 
coffee was not waited for; punctually to the minute the 
devoted old hunter threw his fowling-piece and pouch over 
his shoulders, and the two set off on the highway at a brisk 
trot. 

To one side lay Prince's Court. The atmosphere was so 
clear and translucent that the groups of flowers dotted 
over the grass looked vividly bright. To be sure, that lit- 
tle palace had becoming a charming place. It used to be 
at the foot of the mountain like a sleeping beauty half 
under the protecting canopy of the climbing forest, which 
was already tipped with the yellow and red flames of 
autumn without splendor or coloring, but little attention 
was paid to it. Now it had waked up, stretched itself, 
and opened its eyes; it glittered and flashed amid the nut- 
trees as though a handful of diamonds had been strewn 
there; the old motheaten jalousies that used never to be 
opened had now vanished, and sound new panes of plate 
glass filled the mighty stone window-frames. 

" Have you observed, Gretchen, how elegant we have 
become out here?" asked her grandpapa. He pointed 
across the way with outstretched arm. How like a giant 
he strode, that robust man of sixty! Beneath his tread the 
pebbles on the highway cracked, and his huge, white 
mustache shone like silver on his bold brown face, which 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 101 

had an almost ferocious look, from the broad scar running 
diagonally nearly all across one side of his cheek, which he 
had got from fencing. " Yes, elegant and outlandish!" 
enunciated he, stamping forward. " Although the mother 
is of good Pomeranian blood, and the daughter, too, upon 
the father's side has nothing of John Bull about her, or 
Parlez vous Fraiifais in her veins, either; it makes no 
difference! they cook and eat there in the English style, 
and chatter French in the glibbest way. Yes, I do- .bt not 
but the very old nut-trees look down upon themselves in 
t-hame and mortification because in their old days they are 
standing here like rustics instead of having been changed 
in their youth into dear plantain or something else grand." 

Margaret laughed. 

" Yes, you laugh, and grandpapa laughs too! I laugh 
at the dust being kicked up hereabout by two petticoated 
creatures a regular fool's play. I tell you ' And he 
described with his outstretched arm a wide circle, indicat- 
ing the whole country around " ' Have you been to 
Prince's Court?' they say, or ' Have you been presented 
there?' And a person is hardly spoken to by one if he has 
not been to the great dinner-party, and another stares in 
your face as if you were a lunatic if you say, Much obliged, 
but you would rather stay at home. I tell you what, 
Gretchen, a man is never done learning! I had supposed 
that I lived in the midst of plain, thorough-going Germans 
of the genuine stamp, and lo! here they are now, dressed 
up in swallow-tail coats, shaking abroad their scented 
pocket-handkerchiefs. Pah ! and sipping a cup of tea with 
all manner of affectation. I only wish it would choke the 
sorry fellows!" 

Margaret slyly glanced at him; she could not detect 
upon his countenance a trace of the love of fun that his 
words led her to suspect; but there flashed forth from be- 
rieath his knitted brows honest, burning indignation. She 
hung gallantly upon his arm, lifted up her right foot and 
tried bravely to keep the step with him, long and military 
as were his strides. 

He smirked and looked down upon her out of the corners 
of his eyes. The tiny tips of her little boots looked too 
ridiculous contrasted with his monstrous hunting-boots. 
" What a poor walking-cane! And it will be perking up 
again," mocked he. ?< Go, give it up, Gretchen," and he 



102 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

pointed back at Prince's Court; " the young lady there 
stands upon a different footing. Indeed you two might 
have been exchanged in your cradles; such an impolitic 
little foot does not become you, and in an aristocrat a large 
foot is always esteemed a mere sport of mischievous nature; 
but in all other respects, I must say she is a beauty, and 
no mistake! White and red as milk and blood; fair you 
brown little katydid, you must creep in the dust beside 
her Tall," he raised his hand almost to the level of his 
own head, " heavy and dull; a real Pomeranian filly, 
demure and comfortable-looking! Such a greyhound as 
trips along at my side has no place there. " 

11 Ah, grandpapa, the greyhound enjoys his life, such as 
it is; you need not grow gray on that account," laughed 
the young girl. " As for the rest, the poor walking-cane 
has proved itself to be a right respectable one; and there 
is very great question if your huge seven-league boots could 
compare in light-footedness with me on the Swiss mount- 
ains. Just ask Uncle Theobald in Berlin \" 

So saying, she happily turned the conversation into a 
different channel. The old man was deeply aggrieved and 



irritated, pouring out freely from the vials of his wrath 
upon the head of his future daughter-in-law. His rela- 
tions with her grandmamma, therefore, must be even more 
unsatisfactory than usual. And assuredly he was in the 
right again; his sharp-sigh ted ness seldom erred; but his 
granddaughter could not and would not pour oil upon the 
flames, and so she told, in traveler's style, of the Hospice 
on St. Bernard, where she had passed the night with her 
uncle and aunt during a fearful snow-storm, of various ex- 
periences in Italy and elsewhere ; and the old gentleman 
listened in rapt attention until the warehouse gate fell-to 
behind them, and the scattered linden leaves in the yard 
were rustling beneath their feet. 

They were just entering the front hall of the main build- 
ing, when a tiny little poodle dog slipped in through the 
house door left slightly ajar, coming from the direction of 
the market. He barked at those entering in a sharp, shrill 
voice. 

Margaret knew the little animal. Years before Mr. 
May had come back from a journey and brought it with 
him. And it had looked like the pet dog of a princess. 
Blue silk ribbons had decorated her fleecy hide, and 011 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 103 

cold days it was seen running about the passage in a beau- 
tifully embroidered purple shabrack. In spite of all allure- 
ments it had never come down into the yard to the chil- 
dren, for the painter family nursed it like a child. 

Now, it came running in, and directly afterward the 
leaves of the gate flew wider open, and a boy sprung after 
it. Almost at the same minute, too, clicked the window of 
the counting-room opening into the entrance hall, and 
Reynold's head was stuck out. 

You infamous little scoundrel, have I not forbidden 
you to go through here?" screamed he at the boy. " Is 
not the warehouse gate broad enough for you? This is 
the master's house, and neither you nor any of your people 
have any business here! Haven't I told you this already? 
Do you not understand German, simpleton?" 

" How could I help it, if Philine broke away from me, 
and ran in here? I wanted to catch her, but I couldn't, 
because I had this basket on my arm!" apologized the little 
fellow with a somewhat foreign accent. " And I know 
German very well; I understand every word that you say," 
he added, in a tone of mingled mortification and pride. 
He was a most beautiful child, with the head of a young 
Apollo, encircled by close-cut brown curls, that sat upon 
a powerful neck, firmly and gracefully. He was the very 
picture of freshness and blooming health. But all this 
loveliness had no existence for that pale-faced young man 
with the keen cold eyes and piping voice who stood at 
the counting-room window. 

And now the escaped Philine took it into her head to 
bound up the steps leading to the drawing-room, just as if 
she were at home. 

Eeynold stamped his foot in rage, while the boy anxious- 
ly ran a few paces after the barking miscreant. 

" Quick and begone, fellow," sounded angrily from the 
window, ' ' else I'll come out and beat both you and your 
cur until you are black and blue." 

" You will, will you? we'll see about that, your rever- 
ence! There are some other people here who will know 
how to hinder such an act!" said the old councilor, and 
with two strides he stood in front of the window. 

Reynold ducked his head involuntarily before the sudden 
and alarming apparition of his grandfather. 

" A pretty fellow you are!" mocked the old gentleman, 



104 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

anger and sarcasm contending for mastery in his voice. 
" You screech like any fish- wife, and put on airs in your 
father's house, as if you were lord and master on the 
premises. Go, you had better let your feathers grow and 
sharpen your bill first! Why shall not the little fellow go 
through, eh! You think, I suppose, that he'll wear out 
that costly stone pavement?" 

" I I can not bear that barking, it grates on my 
nerves." 

" Hush up about your nerves, young man! Such twad- 
dle makes me sick. Are you not ashamed to do as if you 
had been brought up in an old woman's hospital? * My 
nerves!' " mimicked he scornfully. " But enough of 
this." He gulped down the remains of his wrath, tugged 
at his .gun-sling and pressed down more firmly upon the 
forehead his hat that was decked with game-cock feathers. 

Meanwhile Margaret had come up. " But, Reynold," 
said she reproachfully, " what has the little fellow done 
to you " 

" He? To me?" cried he, interrupting her with a sneer, 
for his courage had revived. " Well, really that caps the 
climax, to suppose that those warehouse people make 
direct attacks upon us. After you have been here a few 
weeks, Gretchen, you will feel just as I do, you will have 
looked around by that time, Miss Wiseacre. If we do not 
keep our eyes open there will soon be not a spot in the 
house where your fellow " and he pointed to the boy, 
who had just set down his basket on the floor in order the 
better to grasp the refractory dog "does not set foot. 
Papa has grown strangely lax and indulgent. He suffers the 
boy to range freely over our yard, and spread himself with 
his copy-book, under the linden-trees, in our own favorite 
place, Gretchen, where we used to learn our school lessons. 
We, his own children! And a few days ago I saw him 
with my own eyes, lay a new book on the table as he was 
going by." 

" Envious fellow you!" growled the councilor indig- 
nantly. 

" Think what you choose, grandpapa!" burst from the 
visibly irritated youth. " But I am economical as were all 
the early founders of our firm, and I get furiously mad 
over money thrown away. It is not our habit to give to 
people who render no return into our pockets. Now, by 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 106 

the books lying before me, I know that old May has never 
paid the first penny of rent for the warehouse. Moreover, 
he is such a slow workman that he hardly earns his salt. 
Of course then, he ought to be paid by the piece; but lo! 
and behold, papa pays him his three hundred dollars, year 
in and year out, all the same, whether he hands in even 
one plate or not, and business suffers by this dreadfully. 
If I only had full power for a single day, the order should 
be given which would send that old shingong traveling." 

" Well, and a blessed thing it is that such a greenhorn 
as you must be held in check, until " 

" Yes, until the chief seat in the counting-room is va- 
cant/* chimed in the councilor of commerce, who sudden- 
ly interposed. Apparently he had perceived the approach 
of his father-in-law and daughter, and speedily equipped 
himself, so as not to keep the punctual old gentleman 
waiting for a moment. He was in a- hunting-suit., and 
as he descended the stairs could hardly have failed to hear 
the altercation at the counting-room window. There 
was something abrupt in his sudden appearance upon the 
scene, and Margaret perceived that his under lip quivered 
nervously as he spoke. As for the rest he vouchsafed not 
a glance toward the window, but only shrugged his 
shoulders, and said quite carelessly, in almost a playful 
tone: " Alas! papa still holds possession of that seat, and 
perhaps it will be a right long time yet ere he vacates it 
for this very judicious son of his." So saying he shook 
hands with his father-in-law. 

The window was noiselessly shut, and immediately after- 
ward the dark woolen curtain hung as motionless behind 
it as if the shadow of a man were not slinking near. The 
young hot-spur might have found a place of safety behind 
his desk. 

Meanwhile the boy had succeeded in catching the re- 
fractory Philine; Aunt Sophie, who had just come in from 
the sitting-room with a basketful of cakes, had helped him 
by planting herself squarely across the path. Now his 
little heels clattered down-stairs; on one arm he had the 
dog, and on the other he now hung his basket again, his 
little countenance looked very downcast. 

" Have you been crying, my little boy?" asked the 
councilor of commerce, stooping down to him. Margaret 
thought that she had never heard his voice sound so soft 



106 THE LADY WITH THE RTTBIES. 

and tender as the usually proud and reserved man put this 
gympathetic question. 

" I? What do you mean?" replied the little boy quite 
insulted. " The right sort of a boy does not howl!" 

" Bravo! Eight there, my boy," laughed the councilor 
surprised. " You are a fine fellow!" 

The councilor of commerce caught hold of the dog that 
was making every effort to free itself, and stood it upon 
its legs. " He will run after you, if you go across the 
yard," said he soothingly to the child. " But in your 
place, I should be ashamed to go through the street with 
that basket on my arm. " He looked disapprovingly upon 
the appendage to that little arm, as though it vexed him 
to see that ideal form thus disfigured: " it does not become 
a gymnast, your playmates will laugh at you." 

"Oh! just let them try it!" He turned red in the face, 
and threw back his head boldly and energetically as a 
young fighting-cock. " I may fetch rolls though for my 
grandmamma, mayn't I? Our nurse is sick, and grand- 
mamma has a bad foot, and if I do not go she has noth- 
ing to eat with her coffee, and much do I care about those 
silly boys!" 

" That is handsome of you, Max," said Aunt Sophie. 
She took a handful of macaroons out of her basket and 
handed them to him. 

He looked up at her gratefully, but did not accept the 
cakes. " I thank you very much, ma'am!" said he pass- 
ing his hand through his hair, as if embarrassed at refus- 
ing her; " but you know, I do not eat sweet things, they 
are only for girls!" 

Hereupon the councilor broke out in a loud laugh; his 
whole face beamed, and suddenly he lifted the child, 
basket and all, high off the ground, and kissed him heartily 
upon his blooming cheeks. ' ' Yes, indeed, this is from 
different stock altogether! Hurrah! here's a little one to 
my mind!" cried he, letting the boy again out of his 
strong, powerful grasp. " How comes such a little world's 
wonder to be in a trash-trap like that old warehouse!" 

" 'Tis a little French child," said Aunt Sophie. " You 
live in Paris, my dear, do you not?" asked she of the boy. 

" Yes, but mamma is dead, and 

" Look yonder. Your Philine has got away again!" 
called out the councilor of commerce. " Run after her! 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 1C? 

If you don't take care she'll run up to the old lad) who 
lives up there." 

The little boy bounded up the stairs. 

" Yes, they say both his parents are dead," said Aunt 
Sophie in a low tone to the old gentleman. 

But that is not so!" protested the boy down from the 
steps. " My papa is not dead, only far away. Mamma 
always said across the seas, I believe." 

" And don't you long after him a great deal?" asked 
Margaret. 

" Why, I have never even seen my papa once," answered 
he, half dryly, half in a tone of naive astonishment, that 
he should be expected to long after somebody that he had 
never known. 

" That is a silly tale! The devil it is! Hem!" growled 
the councilor almost angrily, and he dangled the fingers of 



them," resumed Aunt Sophie. " What was your mother 
called, my boy?" 

" Mamma and Apollina she was called," answered the 
boy curtly. He was obviously tired of being questioned 
and tried to get past the by-standers. Philine had been 
pleased at last to take the right way, and had run bark- 
ing out into the yard. 

" Now frisk away, youngster/* said the councilor of 
commerce, who had meanwhile been pacing impatiently 
between the house and yard-doors, as though he longed to 
be off and counted dear every minute lost from the delights 
of hunting. " Hurry up, or your rolls will come too late; 
the coffee also, will have been long since drunk." 

" Ah, but it is not made yet!" laughed the little fellow. 
" I have first to fetch down some wood from the garret, 
and split it up fine.*' 

" It seems to me they put a great deal of hard work on 
you," said the councilor of commerce, while his dark eyes 
flashed as they sought the warehouse. 

" Think you that it will hurt the boy?" asked his fa- 
ther-in-law. " When I was a little nine-year-old lad I 
used to chop wood, and was as ready to put my hand to 
work in the field and stable as though I had been a hired 
farm-hand. Is not the man better for roughing it a little 



108 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

as a ooy, especially in case of a poor little waif like this, 
who nas nothing to look forward to in the future? There 
is seme thing wrong here and not according to rule, I sus- 
peci;; and whether that party ever comes back from over 
the seas is a question, and does the duty that he has been 
shirking. The breaking of one's word is a light matter 
nowadays. And then the old man over there " he pointed 
toward the warehouse " will not be overjoyed at having 
such an incumbrance all the time, and all this means that 
our little friend yonder will have to stand up for himself 
and struggle manfully to keep his head above water in the 
coming strife with a selfish world/'' 

" I will take him into my counting-room after awhile/' 
remarked the councilor of commerce; as he spoke laying 
his hand protectingly upon the boy's curly head, as though 
it touched him to the heart to think of the probability of 
this splendid-looking boy making shipwreck of life. 

" I am glad to hear you say that, Baldwin. But you 
will have to gain the consent of that one in there," he 
nodded his head in the direction of the counting-house 
window, behind which the folds of the curtain began again 
to stir traitorously, " else there'll be death and destruc- 
tion." 

He tapped his granddaughter's cheek tenderly, and 
offered Aunt Sophie his hand in leave-taking. " I'll see 
you soon again, Cousin Sophie " he always called her so 
"I shall lodge in my town-quarters once more; would 
like to spend an evening with Herbert and Gretchen to- 
gether. Please announce this to the authorities above 
stairs, with my most humble respects," he added with a 
bow of mock reverence, as he went forth into the market- 
place. 

The councilor of commerce stood still another minute, 
as though rooted to the spot. Turning back he saw how 
his daughter had flown after the rapidly retreating child, 
drew him to her by passing both hands through his rich 
brown curls, and kissed the laughing fugitive. It was a 
lovely picture, charming enough, to make one forget to 
move on. 

" Well, I do declare, she's playing with the child 
a'ready!" said Barbara who was working at the kitchen 
window, and from her station could look obliquely across 
at the group in the yard. She grinned as she made this 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 109 

remark to the house-maid. " I thought all the time that 
our good-hearted Gretchen would not take sides with Rey- 
nold and her in the upper story over there. That little 
scapegrace, with his lovely curls, appeals to every creature 
that has a heart and no stone in his chest. There he runs 
now, shaking his sides for laughter, that the young lady 
has caught him by his hair! There is something sweet 
about youth, certain and sure. You must admit it your- 
self, Netta, life is a different thing when such young blood 
mingles with us old fogies. It freshens us up, you see!" 

And she took two long draughts from her precious 
coffee-pot, and wiped the sweat from her brow. It was 
hot in the kitchen. The mighty bake-oven glowed, and 
delicious odors from good things cooking were wafted out 
into the sunny autumn air. There was as much brewing 
and baking going on as if they expected to entertain a 
whole company of hungry soldiers returning from parade; 
but all was to do honor to the only daughter of the house, 
just newly returned after a long absence. 



CHAPTER X. 

" THE truth is, Gretchen, you are exactly the same child 
as when you used to dog my every step, both hands pulling 
at my skirts, all the same whether I was in the garret or 
the cellar!" said Aunt Sophie, half laughing, half worried, 
late in the afternoon of the next day. Hhe was standing in 
the red parlor of the first story, receiving the pictures as 
they were taken down from the walls and handed her by 
the man-servant. 

All the doors of that suite of rooms opening upon the 
front hall stood open; the daylight came in through win- 
dows bare of curtains, and the clouds of dust scared up 
whirled and danced merrily out into the hall. New 
tapestry, new cur tains, portieres and carpets were in requi- 
sition for the coming winter season, which rumor pre- 
dicted was to be exceptionally gay. 

" This is no place for you, Gretchen, rash child that you 
are!" repeated her aunt emphatically, waving back the 
young girl who still laughingly maintained her ground 
upon the threshold. "It is windy and dusty, horribly 
dusty, I tell you.' I should like to know where this per- 



110 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

vasive gray powder does come from! Here one is running 
about, the whole year round, dusting-cloth and brush in 
hand, as if one was paid extra for it, and only TO behold 
these clouds! The old gentlemen and ladies up there " she 
pointed to the different oil paintings still hanging, that 
were portraits of persons belonging to generations long 
passed away " must shake it out of their wigs and head- 
gear, and our poodle curls will be none the nicer for it, 
Gretchen!" 

" Oh, it will do them no harm, aunt! Here I'll stay, 
and ere you know where you are, I shall be holding to youi 
skirts by two hands again. This is a confusing period at 
' which we live. We, too, build our tower of Babel, only in 
the opposite way, we build downward, piercing into the 
dark depths below. One hardly knows what is right or 
wrong, crooked or straight, allowable or interdicted, such 
a medley of ideas have been originated by the discoveries 
of the famous exhumers of our time. Then how can a 
young thing like me help being glad, if she can secure for 
herself the help of a first-rate pilot, and that is just what 
you are, aunt!" 

" Go away! I did think, though, that you had a level 
head and would not easily mistake ' B for a bull's foot.' 
Well, then, if you will not go, just turn in and help me; 
catch her by the other side, I can not drag her along by my- 
self, this pretty Dora!" 

And Margaret caught hold of the picture just taken 
down from the wall, and helped to bear it across the hall 
away into the haunted passage, the door of which stood 
wide open this evening. There already leaned a whole row 
of portraits against the walls; there they were safe; for no 
passing foot would graze them, and no intrusive sunbeam 
injure their colors. 

She was heavy, in sooth, that lady with the rubies. She 
was incased in a richly gilded frame representing a garland 
of roses and myrtle entwined by a broad ribbon. The lady 
also held a few sprigs of myrtle carelessly in her taper fin- 
gers; so, at all events, she was painted as a bride. The 
portrait was a half-length one, representing the young wife 
in an emerald colored robe brocaded with silver flowers. 
But what sort of a woman was she? 

Margaret had often gazed upon this picture with childish 
curiosity; but what had she understood, then, of the soul 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. Ill 

s mirrored by the form, or of the pencil* s power of repre- 
sentation? only it had always struck her that while the 
done- up hair of all the other Lambert wives and daughters 
was bestrewn with snow white powder, hers retained its 
blackness intact. Now the young girl knelt on the plank 
floor in front of the portrait and said to herself, in view of 
this amazing wealth of hair, out of whose curls fairly glit- 
tered the illusively painted star of rubies, while here and 
there a stray ringlet fell caressingly over the perfect bust, 
that this woman must have been bold and energetic to re- 
sist the fashion prevailing, and the injury threatened her 
most precious jewel. 

Now it was understood why the populace had accredited 
her with walking after death. Her contemporaries, who 
had seen the fire flashing from those great, dark eyes of 
hers in reality, and before whom the living presence had 
moved and breathed, instinct with soul, down to the very 
tips of her gracefully curved fingers, they had. not been 
able to persuade themselves of the actual death and extinc- 
tion of such charms. 

There was something wondrous strange about such an 
old German house with its traditions that linked themselves 
to the old Franconian furniture and animated every nook 
and corner. More solemn, but assuredly not more mys- 
terious, had been the impression made upon her feelings 
on treading the marble-lined corridors of the old Venetian 
palaces, than now in her father's house, where the dead 
planks sighed beneath her tread and the forms of the old 
linen-dealers, imbued with spectral life, loomed out of the 
twilight, their long line broken only by those mute, locked 
doors, behind which so many a secret might sleep. 

To be. sure, once, many years since, her papa had dis- 
turbed the reigning silence and quartered himself in those 
chambers of ill-repute in order to cure his superstitious 
servants of their belief in ghosts; he had also, during his 
stays at home, which had only broken his journeys for a 
few days, remained, by preference, in this his t-usculum. 
But before two years had elapsed, all this had altered; the 
outlook upon the quiet court-yard perhaps had palled upon 
his taste. After an absence of nearly six months, he had 
one day sent orders from Switzerland that the former 
boudoir of his deceased wife should be refitted for him. 
Margaret remembered, besides, that then to her distress 



112 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

the rose-colored curtains and cushions, the water-color 
paintings and rosewood furniture had been carried to 
another room and replaced by furniture of a somber hue. 
And when he had come home he had immediately ordered 
the removal to an adjacent parlor of the great oil painting 
of his deceased wife, the only one which had kept its place 
upon the wall; the sight of that portrait, as did everything 
belonging there, seemed to reopen his old wound, grand- 
mamma had thought, and therefore cheerfully acquiesced 
in the arrangement. But the rooms in the side-wing had 
been under his especial supervision, and were kept in their 
pristine state not the smallest article of modern furniture 
was admitted there then he had had them aired and 
scoured, had drawn the curtains with his o\vn hand, and, 
as before, put the keys in his pocket. 

Margaret bent over and saw, through the wide key-hole, 
into the room with that glorious frescoed ceiling. Like the 
air in a church, it blew toward her, and the faded, trans- 
parent bouquets of flowers breathed in over floors and walls 
a faint, roseate tinge of color. Poor lovely Dora ! Wor- 
shiped and petted iir her short life, she had expiated her 
hard-won happiness by an early death, and now should the 
wings of this Psyche be clipped to all eternity, so that they 
must forever flutter and beat themselves against the two 
narrow walls of this dusky passage? 

As though a far-off cloud of mist glimmered in the girl's 
mind a recollection of that veiled figure in white. Those 
mighty impressions of travel which she had received in the 
outside world, and the exalted intellectual life led in the 
house of her renowned uncle, had well-nigh expunged from 
her memory this episode of her childhood, so that finally 
she had begun herself to believe that the whole singular 
occurrence had but been the setting-in of the severe nerv- 
ous fever from which she had suffered at that time. At 
this instant, however, as she again stood before the very 
same door whence the fugitive figure had then emerged, 
and saw standing diagonally across the huge clothes-press, 
behind which she had hidden, the occurrence again assumed, 
sharp outlines; and it suddenly seemed to her as if she 
must now too, as at that moment, hear again the clatter of 
those little heels as they tapped the floor. 

In the great clothes-press, which played so prominent a 
part in Gretchen's memory, hung its key on a big key- 



<- THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 113 

ring. Margaret opened wider the door, which was only a 
little ajar, and saw that Aunt Sophie had deposited on the 
upper shelf various articles for safe-keeping during the 
renovation of the house. But on the hooks hung still her 
great-great-grandmother's costly brocaded robes, with their 
long trains in perfect order, just as she had often seen 
them years ago. As upon a tulip and hyacinth bed there 
flamed divers bright colors, set off by glittering gold and 
silver laces, heavy fringes and other rich trimmings con- 
siderable dead capital, this, which the piety and pride of 
this old commercial house had left to crumble away un- 
touched in this press. Deep in the darkest corner shone, 
also, a strip of the emerald-colored robe in which the beau- 
tiful Mistress Dorothy had been painted. Margaret drew 
this treasure-trove into daylight. Yes, Aunt Sophie was 
right when she maintained that in old tH^s people got 
more for their money. The real silver of the inwoven 
flowers still glistened; the green was perfectly fresh and 
unfaded, while only in the folds aid the thick, stiff silk 
show any tendency to cut. 

That was i, narrow, small bodice against which had once 
beat Mistress Dorothy's young heart. Margaret thought 
that it would just about fit herself; and all of a sudden 
such a childish freak occurred to her as proved her to be the 
same frolicsome Gretchen as ever. Quite close to the wall 
leaned also a tall upright mirror, which stood opposite the 
pictures. The presumptuous young creature was not even 
appalled when she saw that the mirror reflected the tall, 
proud form of her great-great-grandfather Justus. She 
loosed her long cravat-ribbon from her neck and tied her 
luxuriant curls upon the top of her head to serve for the 
toitpet. Her star-shaped brooch of Bohemian garnet, with 
its ear-rings and sleeve-buttons to match, had to do for the 
ruby star, and just for a passing glance they answered well 
enough. 

It was wonderful, though, that once more nature should 
have created a form that in size and delicacy was a precise 
counterpart of the one that had trodden the Lambert 
house nearly a hundred years ago. The bodice fitted the 
young girl's waist smoothly, without a wrinkle, and the 
silver-stuff front of the skirt just reached to the tips of her 
toes. 

She was startled at her own appearance after she had 



114 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

fastened the last clasp of the stomacher and once more 
fronted the mirror. She also glanced rather timidly in the 
direction where, over her shoulder, glowed the eyes of Jus- 
tus Lambert out of the gloom of the passage, and his 
benign hand rested as plastically there on that great folio 
as if the next minute it might come to life and lay hands 
upon the rash transgressor. 

Well, the bold masquerade must quickly come to an end; 
and in a few minutes the dress again hung uninjured in 
the wardrobe, not, indeed, without Aunt Sophie's having 
seen the modern impersonation of her ancestress. 

With involuntary, dignified steps and movements she 
emerged from the passage. Her train rustled portentously 
over the bare planks; surely the noiseless flitting of the 
fair Dorothea would not have been possible in the impris- 
onment of this prim and grandly sweeping robe of state. 

The man-servant had just left the parlor and was on 
his way through the hall to the front door. Turning his 
head back unconsciously upon hearing approaching steps, 
with a grotesque bound he shot straight out of the door, 
which slarnmed to behind him with reverberating sound. 

Margaret laughed at the effect, and crossed the threshold 
of the parlor; but she started back in confusion, for her 
aunt waa not alone Uncle Herbert, standing with her 
near the window. 

This time yesterday afternoon it would have been a mat- 
ter of perfect indifference to her whether or not her uncle 
stood there. He had never been among the number of 
those home-people, for a sight of whom she had longed 
while away, and the first meeting with him upon her re-' 
turn had in no wise aroused for him any latent interest. 

Since yesterday evening, however, when she had been 
several hours in his company upstairs, in the presence of 
her grandparents, she had had a singular feeling, as 
though all was not right between them. Not that she had 
allowed herself to be influenced by her grandmamma's en- 
thusiastic veneration for her incomparable son, or the un- 
disguised respect in which her father held his young 
brother-in-law; she knew, alas, that these two only did 
homage to the success which seemed to dog his footsteps, 
and saw perfection in him because those high in office asso- 
ciated with him on terms of equality that did not corrupt 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 115 

her; only grandpapa had startled her, whose character she 
had ever recognized as such an incorruptible one. 

It was hardly to be believed that he could be perfectly 
blind to the manner in which his son had advanced his in- 
terests; that he was in utter ignorance, for instance, of 
what powers had lifted him smoothly over steps which 
others had attained to only by the exertion of all their 
energies during the space of many years. And yet it was 
undeniable that yesterday honest approval and fatherly 

S'ide had fairly beamed forth from the old man's eyes, 
e had repeatedly inveighed against the modern ambition 
to rise, irrespective of purity of intention; flatterers, syco- 
phants, and tartuffes are once more the order of the day; 
and the upright German mind could but blush in presence 
of the neighbors, who saw the struggles of these mean fig- 
ures to take position upon the grand chess-board of ac- 
tion. 

Either, in the blindness of paternal partiality, he per- 
ceived not the arrow in his own flesh, or sand had been 
strewn in his eyes. How quietly had he sat there; as 
though this anathema were quite in order. Not a single 
time had the flush of embarrassment or shame been seen 
upon his face; he had smoked his cigar, and thoughtfully 
followed with his eyes its blue rings of smoke; but when 
he had spoken, it was always to the point, as Aunt Sophie 
would have said. 

As for the rest, be the true essence of this character what 
it may, that was not what concerned her any longer; she 
was only vexed that he maintained so consistently his early 
judgment as to the character of his deceased sister's two 
children. For him the diligent, exemplary Reynold had 
lost nothing of his virtues, while evidently he could still see 
no good in " that wild hoyden." And was he not right, 
too? Reynold was making progress in his calling; he was 
cool calculation itself; and up to this very day were not 
mad freaks ever popping into her head, as the figure she 
now cut showed? With the glow of vexation upon her face 
she sought to withdraw unnoticed. The two there had 
their backs turned to her; they seemed to be examining 
some object lying on the window-sill; and the noise made 
by the shutting of an outside door had overpowered, she 
hoped, for their ear, the rustling of her train. But now it 
tyas again so still that the first backward movement of the 



116 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

young girl drew the attention of those standing at the win- 
dow. 

Aunt Sophie turned around, and, for a moment seemed 
speechless; but then she clapped her hands and laughed 
aloud. 

" You had well-nigh succeeded, Gretchen! Bless me, a 
pretty joke it would have been if you had terrified your 
poor old aunt. As it is, no harm was done; but it did give 
me a thrust through and through." Involuntarily she 
pressed her right hand to her heart. " Only, for heaven's 
sake, do not let Barbara see you! No; how exactly you 
resemble that poor Dora in shape, although you have not 
a drop of her blood in your body. You have a very differ- 
ent face, with your wee little nose and the dimples in your 
cheek" 

" Certain lines about the mouth and eyes, with the car- 
riage of the head, make the likeness," remarked Herbert. 
" The fair Dorothea, in her combativeness of mood, 
boldly set herself in opposition to the opinions of the world, 
as is proven by her marriage and the lack of powder upon 
her toupet. She must have possessed self-will and arro- 
gance in a high degree, and these cL r^teristics will set 
their stamp." 

Margaret calmly lifted her eyes to the mirror hanging 
opposite, in which her whole figure was reflected. 

" Yes, it is true; a great deal of childish presumption 
lurks behind this silly masquerading. But it does give me 
amusement a great deal of amusement. And although 
the whole world should curl their lips in scorn, it would 
nevertheless give me exquisite delight to trail behind me 
the sweeping of our ' white-lady's ' court suit. And true 
it is, moreover, that I like to go counter to the opinions of 
the world a capital crime that is bound to make the hair 
of sober people stand on end. And therefore you are quite 
right, Uncle Herbert, to read me a lecture, if in the dis- 
guised form of satire." She arranged the fine Brussels 
lace on the stomacher and sleeves as carefully and com- 
posedly as if she had never, for an instant, lost her self- 
possession, and came further into the room. ' ' I only fear 
that you will have no more patience with me now than in 
those days when my copy-book and recitation of the French 
vocabulary used so to irritate your nerves," continued she, 
shrugging her shoulders. " To this day my writing ia 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 117 

mere duck scratching; and for good reasons I never air my 
Thuringian French in the hearing of Parisian ears." 

" Come, now, don't exaggerate. It is not so bad at 
all!" said Aunt Sophie, laughing. " Just come here and 
look at the mischief done." 

She took the fragments of an antique vase from the win- 
dow-sill and laid them upon the center table. 

" I guard the things up here like the apple of my eye; 
and until now not a single accident has ever happened to 
the most fragile thing; but now, that awkward man Fred- 
erick has played me the trick of throwing this vase off the 
mirror- table. And I could not even scold him, for the 
poor fellow's teeth chattered from fright, and it was almost 
laughable to see him empty his pocket of the few pennies it 
contained in order to pay for the damage done. I know 
no more than anything how many dollars those few bits of 
clay must have cost an absurd amount, though, you may 
depend upon that. Cousin Geoffrey, your grandfather 
brought it with him from Italy." 

Margaret stepped up to the table. " Imitation, and a 
bad one at that!" exclaimed she decidedly, after a brief 
examination. " Grandpapa allowed himself to be imposed 
upon. Throw the pieces into the trash-heap, aunt, with- 
out any remorse. Barbara's darling coffee-pot is of like 
origin. " 

" That sounds as positive as if it had been spoken by 
Uncle Theobald himself," said Herbert, from the window. 
"Now I understand why it is that he already misses his 
co-worker so painfully." 

"Co-worker!" she laughed heartily. " His ministering 
spirit, an earth-gnome, you mean ! Such a sprite as noise- 
lessly watches over the stove in the library in a way that 
no servant can; that now and then places conveniently a 
cup of strong coffee when the great investigator is overtax- 
ing his energies, and, lizard-like, climbs up and down the 
library step-ladder to prevent his suffering for want of any 
book aiding him in going back to the orginal sources of 
things. Such a sprite as that I am to him. And if here 
and there abides with me something of the mind and spirit 
pervading the spot like air, is it to be wondered at? But 
systematically arranged, and practically useful, that chaos 
is not here;" and she tapped her forehead significantly with 
her hand. 



118 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" But who asks such a thing of a girlish brain does 
anybody, uncle ?" 

Smilingly she threw the broken fragments of the vase 
down upon the table. " But how do you know that Uncle 
Theobald docs miss my ' services ' ?" asked she, with sud- 
den animation. 

" That is easily told. My mother has just got a let- 
ter from Aunt Eliza. You are missed not only in uncle's 
study, but in aunt's parlor, where the friends of the family 
assemble; there also your speedy return is longed for. Mr. 
Von Billingen-Wackewitz seems to be the pet of that salon, 
is he not?" 

" What are your reasons for supposing such a thing?" 

A vivid blush suffused her cheeks, while her eyebrows 
slightly contracted. 

His penetrating glance remained fixed upon her counte- 
nance. 

" I'll tell you why I think so. I would lay a wager that 
in my aunt's long, full letter, there are not five lines in 
which the handsome Mecklenburger does not figure." 

"He is Aunt Eliza's protege, and one of the few noble- 
men who visit the house of Uncle Theobald, that ' enthu- 
siast for liberty,' " said she, turning from him, and ad- 
dressing her explanation to Aunt Sophie. 

Herbert leaned his back against the casement of the win- 
dow. " So it is a political affinity, is it, Margaret?" re- 
marked he satirically. " Aunt Eliza explains the attrac- 
tion differently." 

Deeply injured maidenly pride flashed from her eyes; 
but she restrained herself. " This looks very much like a 
family dish of gossip; and I shall not believe that an intel- 
lectual woman like Aunt Eliza would have condescended 
to put her finger in such a pie," said she, with an in- 
credulous shrug of the shoulders. 

He laughed low but derisively. " Experience teaches 
that with regard to match-making all women are alike, 
be they intellectual or narrow-minded all share the same 
little weakness." 

" Oh! please count me out not me!" protested Aunt 
Sophie. " I never meddle in such ticklish matters." 

" Do not boast too soon, Miss Sophie. You are on the 
eve of being sorely tempted, I can tell you," warned he. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 119 

sarcastically. "Mr. Von Billingen is said to be a hand- 
some man." 

" Yes, lie is tall of stature, and has a complexion as 
white and pink as an apple-blossom/' remarked Margaret. 

Herbert did not look up from his finger-nails that he 
appeared to be intently scrutinizing. 

"Above everything, he bears a name which is highly 
respected, and very old," continued he inexorably. 

" To be sure, very ancient," assented Margaret. " The 
masters of heraldry are disputing up to this day whether 
the singular device upon one of his armorial bearings is 
the flint hatchet of a dweller in caves or a piece of a loom 
'from a later date, when the stakes were used in building." 

" Nonsense! what sort of a family tree is that? Must 
our sturdiest oaks cringe before such?" asked Aunt Sophie, 
with a merry twinkle of the eye. " What, Gretchen! will 
you plume your flight so high?" 

The young girl's eyes fairly sparkled in her displeasure. 
" Dear me, and why not?" asked she in return. " Is not 
pluming one's flight high a feature of our times? And I, 
a girl! a girl that has four ounces less weight of brains 
than the lords of creation; how should I form my own judg- 
ment and go my own way? No. I am not so rash! I 
run bravely abreast of the fashions of the day, and do not 
see why I may not advance my own fortunes and shake off 
the dust of my humble origin if it please me so to do." 

" Our old gentlemen up there should only be here to 
listen to that!" threatened Aunt Sophie, pointing to some 
of the portraits in oil which had not been taken down from 
the wall merchants all of them, looking proudly and 
solemnly down from the midst of their elaborately done 
up wigs. 

Margaret smiled and shrugged her shoulders. " Who 
knows how they would get along nowadays, with their 
stern people's pride. ' We are children pf our century, 
and no Spartans/ was a sentiment I heard expressed but a 
short while ago; and so it might be that those old Lam- 
berts, with their unflagging energy in counting-room and 
xvarehouse would always have esteemed themselves happy 
(even as do many others now) to pour out of their wealth 
in the shape of a daughter's dowry into the empty cap of 
some scion of an old and honored stock. Such is the mod- 
ern burgher's pride so people say. " 



120 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" ' So people say/ " repeated the young statesman, nod- 
ling his head. " Of course you get this expression of a 
sharp tongue from others, likewise/' 

" Of course I do," she laughingly affirmed. " I do just 
like other young girls do, I repeat after uncle ' I listen 
when others are discussing the questions of the day, and a 
great deal really interests me. For example, the climbing- 
pole, full of desirable things, that is about to be erected in 
the world 

" And toward which aspirants are crowding in multi- 
tude; are they not, Margaret?" interposed Herbert, with 
A cold smile. 

The glance which met his was a lowering one. " Yes, 
indeed, uncle. For such as do not find their native soil 
good enough, the direct road is not best. Many a brave 
man is to be thrown down. in that onslaught. If climbing 
is to be easy, say the people, one must heed only the sig- 
nals from without; but on no account in the world any 
inner voice such as proceeds from the heart, or true con 
victions, else one will fall down, like the awakened som- 
nambulist from the roof. Fair ladies' hands help too 
many a time." 

" Hush!" said Aunt Sophie, lifting her forefinger in the 
direction of the staircase. It was not displeasing to her 
that the clattering of footsteps was audible outside, com- 
ing quite apropos to interrupt a conversation, to which the 
rash illusions of the young lady threatened to give a pain- 
ful turn. " Run and take off that dress, Gretchen!" she 
urged. " By the step, I judge that it is Reynold coming 
up, and he seldom has any patience with a joke, he is easily 
put out!" 

Margaret flew to the door. She avoided anxiously com- 
ing into collision with her brother; but already it was too 
late; Reynold came along the hall in attendance upon his 
grand mamma. 



CHAPTER XL 

THOSE entering started back when they saw themselves 
confronted by the fair Dora, descended from her frame. 
She had withdrawn again to the table in the middle of the 
parlor, and stood there with bowed head, as though in 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 121 

nnresisting expectation of the reproaches which were to be 
showered upon her. 

" This is another of your mad pranks, Gretchen! You 
might have been the death of somebody/' said Mr. Lam- 
bert junior, promptly, as soon as he had recovered breath. 

" Yes, brother dear, it was terribly silly/' assented she 
with a sweet smile. At the same time she went from door 
to door, closing those that were open ; for Reynold was in 
perpetual dread of draughts. 

" Nonsense!" murmured he, following each one of her 
movements with a look of vexation. " Hear that rustling 
and rattling, the silver falling from its rotten threads. 
Papa should only be here to see you trail that valuable 
property over those rough planks! He would be cured of 
his wonderful admiration of you, which must have sprung 
up in a night, I believe he does just as if you had drunk 
in wisdom at Berlin, by the spoonful." 

" Do not get angry!" she implored. " I am going di- 
rectly. In a few minutes the dress will be hanging in its 
place, and I'll never touch it again. Come, be good 
now!" 

Entreatingly she laid the tips of Iter tender fingers upon 
his hand, that he was resting on the table; but he pushed 
her away. " Be done with your childishness, Gretchen! 
You know from the time that I was little, I never could 
bear anybody to come too near to me you know it, too!" 

Smilingly she nodded her head, cautiously picked up 
her train to hinder its making any noise as she went out, 
and moved toward the middle door. But on the threshold 
she lingered and turned back. 

" What more foolery has been done here?" she had 
heard Reynold inquire, and now saw him throwing around 
the fragments of the shattered vase. 

" Why, you see, Reynold, it is just such a little accident 
as may easily happen when one undertakes a thorough 
cleaning," said Aunt Sophie shrugging her shoulders. 
She purposely avoided drawing his attention to that awk- 
ward fellow who was really at fault. 

" What? You call that a little accident," repeated the 
young man quite angrily. " Why, aunt, you seem to have 
not the faintest idea of the money-value of the things in- 
trusted to your charge up here! That vase cost ten ducats 
cash; I can prove it to you from the inventory -book, ten 



122 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ducats cash! Yes, God knows it is heart-rending to see 
how often money has been laid out in this house for the 
merest trash! Our good grandpapa was grand at that 
thing. Thousands are tied up in the useless articles which 
he collected, just to be crammed away in a garret. Dealers 
in the antique know this and are forever applying to us to 
do the same; but papa is getting pretty rough with them, 
and for my part, such unwarrantable expenditures put me 
into a perfect rage. But it will be different some day, and 
then I know somebody who makes tracks. Then every- 
thing will be plated, everything that is not absolutely 
needed for use in the house/' He shook his head and 
threw the bits in his hand down on the table. " Ten 
ducats! a mere bagatelle of course! A trifle in the eyes of 
all in our house who can not count/' 

" Compose yourself, please; I know my multiplication 
table by heart, and need not sit at your counting-room 
desk in order to learn the value of money," quietly inter- 
posed Aunt Sophie. " Those ten ducats were thrown out 
of the window in the first instance when the vase was 
bought. Even the wisest may be caught sometimes by 
imitation ware, such as this was/' and she pointed at the 
fragments. 

" How imitation? Who says that?" 

" Margaret says so," said Herbert, slowly approaching 
the table. 

Reynold laughed loudly. " Gretchen! She?" And he 
pointed at the maiden with his finger. 

" Yes, your sister," repeated Herbert emphatically, 
looking with strong disapproval full into the impertinent, 
grinning face of his nephew. " For that matter, let me 
entreat you to alter from this time forth that boyish un 
mannerly way that you have in addressing your aunt and 
sister. All your life-long, on account of your irritable 
nerves, very much has been overlooked in you, entirely too 
much, I am afraid ; but it is time that you were learning 
that you, too, owe obligations to others." 

Reynold had stared at the speaker in utter perplexity 
when he first began his exordium; but with all his assump- 
tion he was yet a cowardly fellow, who evaded collision 
with any stronger party. He bit his lip and adventured 
not a single word m reply. Shyly looking away, he 
fumbled in his breast-pocket drew forth a letter and threw 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 123 

it down on the table, so that its very large seal came upper- 
most. 

" Here, Gretchen, this letter was left for you just now 
in the counting-room/' said he snappishly. " Only out of 
respect to its crest, that is almost as large as that of our 
duke himself, did I climb up these draughty stairs; else it 
is all one to me who writes to you." 

The young girl blushed crimson. The exuberance of 
spirit that had awhile ago animated her whole appearance 
had sadly evaporated. Almost helplessly, with a shy, dis- 
tressed glance at the letter, she stood there like a scared 
child. 

" That is the crest of Mr. Von Billingen-Wackewitz, Rey- 
nold," said Mrs. Counsellor impressively, with visible awe. 
' ' I could show you many a carefully preserved billet-doux 
bearing that glorious crest. A Miss Von Billingen was 
once chief stewardess in the household of our most gra- 
cious sovereigns. She was very kindly disposed toward me, 
and corresponded with me about our woman's union. 
Dear me! if I had had any idea then " she broke off with 
an almost enraptured glance upward, threw her arms 
around her granddaughter's waist, and clasped her to her 
heart. " My dear, dear Gretchen, you little rogue, you!" 
she cried with deep emotion. " So this was the magnet 
which held you fast to Berlin? And I have been so un- 
pardonably short-sighted and actually reproached you while 
you were preparing to bring inexpressible prosperity to 
our house! such a blind, unjust grandmamma was I not, 
darling? Are you angry with me?" 

The granddaughter freed herself from the embrace, and 
drew back a step. She had recovered her composure. " I 
have no ground for being angry, and besides, such a feel- 
ing would ill befit a grandchild," said she rather dryly, 
and with a side glance at Reynold, she pulled in order the 
lace belonging to that "expensive piece of property." 
" Such demonstrations may not be allowed us, while I am 
clad in fair Dorothy's court-dress; Reynold will quarrel." 

" Ah! if he only knew what I know," replied the old 
lady with a roguish twinkling of the eyes, " then he would 
agree with me that the robe suits you incomparably! Yes, 
AS I see you there before me, with your really noble carriage 
and that (now a grandmother must be pardoned for having 
a little maternal vanity), as I was saying, that intellectual 



124 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

piquant little face, yes, then you might take your place 
confidently alongside of those illustrious dames, who grace 
the walls of a certain parlor in this house. " 

" What, with her shock head, and hoydenish manners, 
into the bargain, grandmamma?" 

Mrs. Counsellor grew a little red and raised both hands. 
" Dear child but no," she said, interrupting herself 
" to-day I will be still! To-morrow, or maybe in a few 
days afterward, you will have much to say to me, infinite- 
ly much, my child, that will be a life-long blessing to me, 
I know. Until then I shall keep dark!" 

Margaret made no reply. Shyly she reached out for the 
letter, thrust it into her ample dress-pocket, and went 
out, in order to restore the court-robe to its proper place. 
At this instant Mrs. Counsellor remembered that she had 
only come down-stairs, to ask Aunt Sophie for a receipt 
for making a particular tart, but Herbert, who had only 
been attracted thither in passing by the sound of the fall- 
ing vase, had meanwhile picked up his hat and cane from 
the table and left the room. 

He stood before the nearest buffet and was apparently 
scrutinizing with much interest its array of old bumpers 
and bowls, when Margaret passed him on her way to the 
passage. " You will have much to ask pardon for some 
day, Margaret," said he in low tones, but emphatically 
across his shoulder. 

" I, uncle?" she stayed her steps and secretly smiling 
came nearer. " If that is so, it shall be done upon the 
spot, if you like! Daughters and nieces may- do that with 
a good grace, and diminish none of their maidenly dignity 
either." 

He turned square around facing her, but, at the same 
time cast such a forbidding glance at Reynold who was ap- 
proaching, that the tall man slunk away abashed, and with 
the two old ladies disappeared from the hall. 

" You seem to count double where I am concerned, for 
the years during which we have not met," said Herbert 
moodily. " I seem very old and venerable to you, Mar- 
garet, do I not?" 

She turned her face somewhat aside, and her expressive 
eyes passed each of his features in review. " Now I'll let 
you know, it is not so bad. I do not see a single gray hair 
in that fine beard of yours." 



THE LADY WITH THE JIUBIES. 125 

" Bad enough if you are looking out for them already!" 
For a moment, he looked away through the nearest win- 
dow. " I was a little taken aback by being greeted so re- 
spectfully by you when you first arrived; so far as I 
recollect, Keynold always called me uncle, but you never!" 

" You are right. I never did in spite of ever so many 
lectures on the subject! You did not seem dignified 
enough to me for an uncle. ' It is just like milk and 
blood/ Barbara was always saying." 

" Ah, indeed! well, has my coloring grown gray enough 
now for you?" he laughed. 

" Ah, that has nothing to do with it, it is your beard 
that makes the difference! Such an aristocratically trimmed 
mustache gives one a grand air, uncle!" 
. He bowed ironically. 

" And then when I saw you sitting there, day before yes- 
terday evening, by that beautiful lady, and you came out 
into the hall recognizable as the chief citizen of the town, 
your whole appearance too irradiated by the reflection of 
princely grandeur, then came over me a most overpower- 
ing feeling of respect, and I felt dreadfully ashamed of 
myself." 

" Then I must indeed feel much complimented that the 
title of uncle flows so glibly from your lips?" 

Smilingly she nodded her head. " Now, you know it is 
not a thing to be so unconditionally desired. I can see 
right well that it may not be pleasant to be called ' uncle ' 
by so old a girl as I am. But I can not help you. We 

Cr Lambert children are too poor in the matter of kin; 
e only this one mother's brother, and if only a step- 
uncle, yet you must submit to be ' Uncle Herbert/ all your 
life-time." 

" Very well, I'm content, dear niece. But you must 
also admit that this acknowledged relationship involves the 
duty of obedience to said uncle." 

She started; but directly afterward a gleam of intelli- 
gence lighted up her features. " Ah, you think so?" She 
laid her hand, blushing deeply, upon the pocket containing 
the letter which she had just received, and a fitful gleam 
shone in her eyes. 

He cast upon her a furtive glance, but said nothing. 

" Yes, that is so!" nodded she positively. " You think 
exactly like grandmamma. You are proud of the prospect 



126 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

held out to me, and open heart and arms to my suitor, 
without having ever seen him. And why so? Merely be- 
cause you know his name that is enough. Well, but you 
know your niece's eccentricity, and perhaps entertain the 
secret dread that she might be guilty of the boundless folly 
of preferring to remain simple Gretchen Lambert; to have 
a new force controlling their spirit of opposition, is of great 
value to the family. The house of Counsellor is about to 
soar aloft beyond the clouds, and in its own interests de- 
sires that the kindred Lamberts be likewise lifted higher." 

" It is astonishing how sharp-sighted you are!" 

She laughed. " No, uncle, that compliment I reject! 
You think too flatteringly of me. This here " she raised 
the little finger of her right hand " does not tell me so. 
For me the whole air of our house is breathing and ani- 
mated, whispers and sighs come to me from every passage 
and corner of the steps; for, you know I was born on an 
Easter Sunday, and have always been on good terms with 
the familiar spirits of our house. And as in former days 
they used to tell me of those old times, of the silver threads 
of linen which were transmuted in the marts of the world 
outside, and flowed back into my ancestor's coffers as pure 
gold, so now they whisper of a very different splendor, of 
princely grace and condescension, of the favor of high-born 
ladies, and of the old plebeian blood (mature now, after 
long centuries of diligence in accumulating) being elevated 
now to a higher plane." 

' ' Kh, those are the charming little cobolds that poison 
the air with their bits of malice! One must try to catch 
them." 

" With your gendarme, uncle. We would but furnish 
the merry little fellows with matter for jesting. They 
would just creep up behind, and repeat in mine ear tales 
of that new drama in Lambert's house, in which that silly 
thing Gretchen is to play her part, a baronial coronet is 
to be placed upon her bushy head, and the change is at 
hand, they think. But you know, uncle, I have just a 
little voice in the matter, do you -not think so? That little 
word ' yes ' has yet to be said. And just take heed that 
the bird does not fly away, before it has sung! Catch me 
not!" 

" It might be put to the test. " 

" Try it, uncle." She glanced back at him across her 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 127 

shoulder, and her eyes sparkled as though she were ready, 
forthwith,, to undertake the spiritual conflict. 

" I accept your challenge, trust to that! But observe 
that if I have the bird once, it is all up with it." 

"Ah! poor thing, then it must sing to your whistle," 
laughed she. "But I am not afraid lama mocking- 
bird, uncle, and could easily entice you the wrong way!" 

She bowed gracefully, and, with a concealed laugh swift- 
ly entered the passage, behind Mistress Dorothea's death- 
chamber, and while, with nimble fingers she loosened the 
clasps of the bodice, she heard Herbert leave the entrance 
hall. But at the same time she' heard plainly her father's 
voice, coming upstairs. The two gentlemen exchanged 
salutations in the door- way, as it seemed; then the door fell 
to, and the councilor of commerce 'went into his own 
room. 

Early in the morning he had ridden away to Millbrook, 
had stayed to lunch there, and had just now got home. 
She longed to welcome him, more especially as in the 
morning he had looked so melancholy and depressed as he 
sat upon his horse, giving her, in return for her lively 
"good-morning/' only a slight nod, and not a word of 
reply. This had fallen painfully upon her bright young 
spirit. But Aunt Sophie had consoled her. She had sup- 
posed this to be only one of his bad days, when every one 
kept as quiet and as much out of his way as possible. He 
knew himself what was the best thing to do for getting rid 
of this evil besetment of spirit, viz., a ride in the fresh air, 
and distraction of mind in the business activities of the 
factory. In the evening he would come home " more 
sociable." The brocaded robe of the fair Dorothy again 
hung in the deepest recess of the wardrobe, and Margaret 
was just in the act of rearranging her hair, when she again 
heard her father's door open. She heard him come out 
and go along the hall. He quickly came nearer, and it 
seemed as though he was making direct for the passage. 

Margaret was frightened. She was in her underclothes, 
and any way did not want him to see her here. She did not 
know in what mood he had come home, and what would 
be his opinion of her rash inroad upon the sacred relics of 
the house. A regular panic seized her. Involuntarily she 
slipped into the wardrobe and crouched low amid the en- 
circling folds of rich soft satins and silks. It seemed to 



128 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

her as if she were sinking in roaring waters. She drew 
the door softly to. 

A few seconds afterward the councilor of commerce 
came around the corner of the passage. Through the nar- 
row slit of the door he could be seen by his daughter. Bid- 
ing in the open air, and the bustle of factory-life at Mill- 
brook, had not dispelled that black melancholy which so 
often made this handsome man an object of terror to every- 
body in his house. In his right hand he held a small 
bunch of fresh roses, and heedlessly walked between the 
lines of portraits representing his forefathers. Only the 
oil-painting of the fair Dorothy seemed to exert an un- 
wholesome effect upon him, for leaning, as it did, obliquely 
between the corner of the wardrobe and the wall, the 
fascinating figure in a certain way confronted him. He 
started back, and laid his hand over his eyes, as though he 
were threatened with a stroke of apoplexy. This shock 
was comprehensible. Over yonder in the red parlor, high 
on the light wall, the demoniacal nature of this beauty had 
never b^en so manifest as here in this ghastly twilight. 
He murmured passionate words to himself in an access of 
fury, seized hold of the heavy picture, and turned it to the 
wall. The frame hit hard against the stone wall, and its 
hinges creaked. 

His terrified daughter held her breath. It was as though 
from that dark, melancholy brooding the flames of mad- 
ness had suddenly flashed forth, as though that strong hand 
might be suddenly uplifted in some deed of horror, that 
would change this quiet merchant's house into the theater 
of scenes awful to contemplate. But nothing dreadful was 
enacted. With the banishment of that woman's effigy into 
the dark corner the storm in the bosom of that deeply ex- 
cited man was hushed. He moved on, close by his daugh- 
ter, so that his heavy breathing could be heard through the 
opening in the door, small as it was. 

Immediately the key rattled in the lock of the next 
room-door. The councilor of commerce entered, withdrew 
the key again and drew the bolt inside. 

A feeling of awe crept over the unsuspected observer. 
What was he doing in that bare, dusty room, all alone with 
his gloomy thoughts? Nobody had any idea that he ever 
came into this part of the house these days. Barbara 
maintained that he was nsver known now to set foot in. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 129 

that passage. She was sure he had had trying experiences 
there to make so courageous a man plainly shrink from 
ever trusting himself there again. "Well, in there he cer- 
tainly was now, buried, as it were, in silence and gloom; for 
not a sound came thence. But, perhaps it was this very 
unbroken quiet that he finally sought, when intercourse 
with the outside world had proved unequal to the exorcism 
of his evil demon. It soothed that inner storm, and cooled 
the hot, diseased blood which mounted so darkly and dis- 
tressingly to his head. Yes, he was sick. It was not ex- 
clusively grief for her deceased mother's loss which had al- 
tered him so fearfully, as grandmamma falsely insisted, for 
in the first years after her death he had not been so morose 
and unsocial. No, he was diseased, phantoms of the brain 
! pursuing and torturing him; this she had been forced to 
admit on the evening of her arrival. He, the strictly 
correct, punctilious principal of the highly esteemed firm 
of Lambert, the proud man to whose honor not the 
slightest spot attached, he it was who suddenly imagined that 
there might come a time when the finger of scorn would 
be pointed at him, and he would be defamed in circles 
within which his false ambition had continually urged him 
to aim to be included. Her heart was surcharged with 
woe, as she pictured to herself the moment when he had 
stood before her, his child, almost in the attitude of a sup- 
plicant, pleading for her co-operation and filial confidence. 
So far had that insidious disease already brought him! 

For a moment more Gretchen listened at the bolted door, 
death-like quiet prevailed behind it, then with trembling 
knees she left her hiding-place, gathered together what of 
her garments lay around, and flew to one of the front 
rooms, in order to adjust her dress as quickly as possible. 
What a piece of good fortune that her father had not got 
home ten minutes earlier! If that painted, lifeless can- 
vas had produced such an unwholesome effect upon him, 
what would have happened if he had suddenly seen before 
him the apparently living, breathing image of that 
, wretched woman herself? That the mummery had already 
1 done one piece of mischief, she did not concern herself at 
all. 

For the past half hour the terrified man-servant had 
been sitting on a bench down-stairs in the kitchen. His 
trembling limbs were still unable to bear him, and his 



130 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

usually ruddy cheeks were positively livid. The whole 
kitchen smelled of liquor. " There's nothing better than 
that!" Barbara had said thrusting into his mouth one soak- 
ing piece of sugar after the other. All the servants on the 
place stood around commiserating him, and not to be satis- 
fied with listening to the recital of his adventure. 

" No, no, no once for all, no!" repeated he decidedly 
for the twentieth time. " I'll not touch her again; not for 
the world! She may just see who will hang her up again 
upon her hook. And me break anything! Angels defend 
us, there's my pipe I've had full fourteen years, and I defy 
anybody to find even the tiniest crack in it. And show 
me the plate or glass, Barbara, that I've broken, in wiping 
down here in the kitchen. You can not, witn the best 
will, you can not! Nothing of the sort can be brought 
against me! And up there, that thing, that vase just new 
out of my hand. Such a twitch from behind at my elbow, 
and crash, there lay the thing broken on the floor. And 
it was my punishment for having moved her from her 
place, the malicious creature! I just thought it would be 
so, and did not want to ' The room is not tapestried, 
ma'am,' I said. ' The picture might hang there to the 
end.' But Miss Sophie does not believe in anything. 
That picture must come down, nothing else would do, and 
I, poor devil, had to suffer for it. Yes, never in my life 
will I get over this fright! And afterward when she came 
up to me, just out of her frame, her green dress rustling 
and bristling, while those rubies in her hair glowed like 
sparks of hell-fire, then I thought, ' It's all up with you 
now, Frederick!' Fortunately I got to the door, and it 
clapped hard to behind me; but on the steps I felt some- 
thing ice-cold clutch at my neck." 

" Stuff and nonsense, Frederick! She did nothing more 
to you on the steps, she can not cross the threshold!" said 
Barbara handing him a tiny glas of something. " Here, 
now take a swallow of this peppermint, and it will soon set 
you on your legs. And let me tell you, good folks, this 
story goes no further than ourselves! Upstairs nobody 
has any faith, though we were to swear ourselves black and 
blue in the face. First they laugh at us, then scold, and 
throw up to us our superstition and love of gossip, until 
we have to go off and swallow our vexation as best we can. 
And we dare not open our mouths to the townspeople 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 131 

either. I rather think not. We Lamberts are not too 
great favorites there anyway; our great business and re- 
spectability and uncommon wealth, all that gives food to 
envy, and there are some who rejoice in a misfortune hap- 
pening to our family; it is nuts for them to crack, and a 
misfortune is coming, as sure as you live. That time when 
our Gretchen came near dying, there was a running to 
and fro upstairs of ghostly creatures, until the child was 
brought home to us half dead. What to do now is to keep 
your ears open and watch. I charge you, watch fire and 
light, that is our affair! As for that which is to come to 
pass afterward, none of us can alter it at all. Goose-flesh 
is creeping all over me:" to prove what she said she rolled 
back the sleeve from her arm. " Any minute it may come 
any minute!" 

CHAPTER XII. 

AND the following night it did indeed seem as though a 
piteous voice took up the lamentation of this prophecy, 
wailing it forth to the market and the whole town the 
first October storm was howling through the land. The 
ravens had been circling around the city, in great swarms, 
the whole afternoon, going on like mad, and in the even- 
ing the sun had set, as it were, in a sea of blood; the lurid 
reflection had for a long time shed a strange glare over the 
church towers and steeples. And now it came. The 
whole night through the elements roared and raved, allow- 
ing themselves not a moment's respite, and when day 
dawned, the storm was still careering madly through the 
streets. The people crossing the market-place, where the 
ground was high, could hardly keep on their feet, while 
hats and caps flew around the street corners in a regular 
whirling dance. 

Mrs. Counsellor was out of sorts. Her delicate little feet 
had become rather tottering and unsteady. She no longer 
trusted herself out on the street when the wind was high, 
and so she was obliged to forego the visits which she had 
engaged to make in the city with her newly arrived grand- 
daughter. 

Margaret was so much the better pleased. The free 
afternoon came to her in the light of a boon. She sat up- 
stairs in her grandmamma's drawing-room with nimble 



132 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

fingers, helping the old lady on a large, magnificent piece 
of embroidery. The rug was for a Christmas gift to Her- 
bert, but was destined had been mysteriouly confided to 
her to lie before his bride's desk, when he should set up 
housekeeping in future. And Margaret stitched away in- 
defatigably upon the bunches of flowers over which the 
foot of the fair Heloise was soon to step. 

About four o'clock, the young statesman also came 
home from his office. His study was adjoining. For a 
long time people were heard coming in and going out, the 
office-boy brought bundles of law-papers, a gendarme 
made an announcement, and voices grew loud in entreaty, 
and Margaret could but think how the carefully guarded 
quiet of these upper regions had been completely scared 
away by inmates who did not bear the name of Lambert. 
Those old merchants had never dreamed of such a thing. 
It had always been her pride to inhabit it alone, the grand 
main building, and she would have greatly preferred to 
leave the upper story empty than to give to any strange 
foot the privilege of walking up and down its beautiful, 
broad stairs, and making profane noises. 

In spite of the storm, indeed, at the very moment when 
it was at its height and the windows rattled, shaken by a 
violent gust of wind, a charmingly arranged basket of 
costly table-fruit was handed in as sent from Prince's 
Court. Mrs. Counsellor's hands trembled for joy at the 
attention. As quickly as possible, she covered her Christ- 
mas work with a cloth, and called her son in after she had 
dismissed the messenger with a rich bounty. 

Herbert paused a moment on the threshold, as though 
surprised to find anybody besides his mother in the room; 
but then he drew nearer, and nodded in the direction of 
the window where Margaret sat. 

" Good -day, uncle!" said she calmly returning his salu- 
tation, and went on stitching away at an end of the rug 
that peeped forth from beneath the concealing cloth. 

His brows contracted and he cast an absent-minded 
glance upon the basket of fruit which his mother held out 
to him. " Singular idea that, of chasing a messenger into 
town during a storm like this!" said he. " There was time 
enough for that } 

" No, Herbert!" interposed Mrs. Counsellor. " The 
fruit is freshly plucked, and ought not to lose its bloom. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 133 

A.nd then, you know, the ladies out there do not like a day 
to pass without some mutual sign of life being exchanged. 
What delicious fragrance! I'll arrange you a plate full of 
pears and grapes, and send them over to you directly." 

" Thank you kindly, dear mamma; enjoy them your- 
self. I put no claim to them, the attention was wholly 
and solely paid to yon." 

So saying he returned to his own room. 

"He is sensitive because the love-token was not sent to 
him direct," whispered Mrs. Counsellor into Margaret's 
ear, while she picked up her spectacles, and went to work 
again. " Dear me, though, Heloise can not and shall not 
go on in that way! He is so shyly reserved, so incompre- 
hensibly backward, and almost seems to hope that she will 
speak the decisive word. He is frightfully jealous even of 
me, his unselfish mamma, as you have just seen. Yes, 
child, you will make your experiences too now in that 
line!" added she aloud in jocular tone, and again entered 
upon the theme which the servant's entrance had inter- 
rupted. She aimed to make a confessional of the window- 
seat. The question was the writing of Mr. Von Billingen- 
VVackewitz. Margaret had burned his letter the day 
before, and her answer, rejecting his suit, was already on 
the way. But not a word to this effect escaped her. She 
answered diplomatically in monosyllables, and was intense- 
ly annoyed that the old lady called the name of the gentle- 
man sometimes as loudly and unrestrainedly as if he 
already belonged to the family. It mortified her so much 
the more, as the door to the next room just now had not 
been closed tight; the aperture visibly widened, and he 
who went in and out could hear each of these indiscreet 
remarks. 

Grandmamma, indeed, had her back to the door and 
could not know that it was open, until, her attention being 
called by some sound, she turned around in astonishment. 
" Do you want anything, Herbert?" called she across. 

" No, mamma. Only allow the door to remain slightly 
ajar; they have overheated my room!" 

Mrs. Counsellor laughed softly to herself and shook her 
head. " He thinks we are talking of Heloise, and, of 
course, that is music for his ear," whispered she to her 
granddaughter, and immediately began to speak of Prince's 
Court and its inmates. 



134 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIE8. 

Not long afterward twilight drew on. The work was 
rolled up and laid aside, and with this grandmamma's 
lengthy descriptions came likewise to an end. She had no 
need even to send a greeting across into the next room, for 
the door had long since been softly closed from the inside. 

On the staircase the draught had free sweep. No won- 
der! On the parlor-floor stood open one sash of the great 
window opening out upon the yard, and the storm that 
came from the north, across the warehouse roof, blustered 
directly in and reverberated against the echoing walls like 
the deep tones of an organ. 

As she came down, Margaret saw her father standing by 
the window. The tempest beat against his broad breast, 
and disheveled the full growth of crisp hair upon his 
head. 

" Will you go down?" he shouted, striving to be heard 
above the warring elements, and waving with his arm to 
some one on the other side of the yard. 

His daughter stepped up to his side. He started, and 
turned upon her a face distorted by violent excitement. 

" That madcap there apparently wants to break his 
neck!" said he earnestly, pointing to the open gallery be- 
longing to the warehouse. 

There stood little Max on top of the gallery balusters. 
He had rested his left arm lightly against one of the wooden 
pillars which supported the far-projecting roof; in the 
manner of an orator, the other was extended toward the 
lowering clouds and sung, but it was no connected melody 
that he sung; he only struck single notes of the scale, let- 
ting them swell and then die away as if he arrogantly 
wanted to measure the power of his little lungs against that 
of the storm. These, then, had been the supposed organ- 
tones. As for the rest, he could not have heard her fa- 
ther's shout, for he began anew. 

" He is not going to fall, papa!" said Margaret laugh- 
ing. " I know best how many risks one can run at his 
age. The garret rafters in our top story could tell many a 
tale of my tight-rope dancing if they chose. And the 
storm can not harm him, for the wind is at his back. To 
be sure the old wood-work over there is not to be trusted." 
She pulled out her pocket-handkerchief and waved it out 
of the window. 

This signal the little boy immediately perceived. He 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 135 

husked, and jumped down from his high post. Evidently 
shocked and embarrassed, he made out as if he were doing 
various things on the gallery; he was probably ashamed of 
having been noticed. 

" That little fellow has gold in his throat," said Mar- 
garet. " But he is a little spendthrift. Twenty years 
from hence, when he will have learned to treasure up such 
costly material, he will not so madly sing out into a storm. 
You will not get him into your counting-room, papa, he 
will be a great singer some day." 

" Do you think so?" His eye sparkled peculiarly, 
almost inimically, as he turned to reply, " I do not believe 
that he is born to amuse others." 

At the same time, he laid hold upon the window-sash to 
close it; but at the same instant a howling gust of wind 
tore the blind out of his hand, a blast of such overpower- 
ing force that it shook the walls of the house as it had not 
done even on that past wild night. What happened dur- 
ing the next seconds those two tumbling back from the 
window did not see. 

They thought that at a single stroke the hurricane was 
going to sweep away the old merchant-house and all within 
it that lived and breathed. A terrible crash, a thundering 
dim of falling ruins, then a momentary lull, as if the mon- 
ster was shocked himself at the destruction he had wrought, 
and hardly ventured to touch the impenetrable, grayish- 
green cloud that suddenly filled the court-yard. 

The warehouse! Yes, thence came that stifling, choking 
mass of dust. 

With a wild exclamation the councilor of commerce 
bounded past his daughter and down the steps. Margaret 
flew after him, but not until he had reached the yard did 
she succeed in clutching hold of his arm. Dumb from 
horror she could not say to him that he must take her with 
him. 

" Stay back!" was his order, and he shook her from 
him. " Would you be killed too?" 

Those were sounds that chilled her to the soul, and as 
she caught a glimpse of his distorted countenance it 
seemed as if his very hair stood on end. 

He rushed off, and she threw her arms around the 
nearest linden-tree, in order to keep herself steady upon 
b<U' feet; for just then came across the yard another sweep- 



136 THE LADY WITH THE I.I I U.S. 

ing blast. A whirlwind caught up the wall of dust and 
drove scattering, stifling clouds of it toward the front 
building, afterward hurling it high up toward the lowering 
sky. 

Now, firm outlines again emerged from their envelop- 
ing shroud. The warehouse was still standing, but as an 
almost unrecognizable ruin. The lower half of the heavy 
tile roof, which, protecting and darkening the open gallery, 
projected far beyond it, had fallen down in its whole 
length, and with it had been torn down its balcony railing 
and pillars. Below the ruins, towered up above the win- 
dows of the ground-floor, and loosened spars and tiles kept 
sliding and rattling down. 

To make one's way over that heap of ruins was most 
perilous on account of the rubbish still raining down. 

With a heart full of anguish Margaret saw her father 
clamber across the chaotic heap, here hurling aside oppos- 
ing beams, there sinking up to his knees in plaster, spars, 
and bits of tile; but after a few seconds he had won his 
way through, and vanished within the darkness of the 
door-way. 

Various outcries from the windows of the front building 
had attended his efforts, and now all the inmates of the 
house rushed out into the yard. Aunt Sophie, all the 
servants, and almost at the same time the gentlemen too 
from the counting-room. The storm drove them all for 
shelter under the lindens against the strong walls of the 
weaving-room. 

Well, nothing more could happen to the master now! 
The strong arch over the door underneath which he had 
been received could not be shaken by the most violent of 
hurricanes; but the child, that poor little boy who bad cer- 
tainly been dashed down, too, and must be crushed beneath 
that cruel burden! Just a little while ago Barbara had 
seen him from her kitchen window standing on the gallery. 

The old cook's face was as pale from horror as that of a 
ghost; but even while she was running and doing battle 
with the storm, she said, with trembling lips: "You see, 
folks, here it is! Was old Barbara right, or was she 
wrong?" 

What she said was bardly to be understood, so stifled, 
was her voice by dust, terror, and the commotion of tho 
storm; but those words had to be spoken. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 137 

Aunt Sophie tied her handkerchief around her fluttering 
aair, and caught up her skirts tightly together. Words 
were not yet at her command, but hand and foot were all 
ready for prompt action. In spite of the still tumbling 
tiles and shingles, with the tempest still beating about her, 
she hurried across the court to the pile of ruins, under 
which the poor murdered boy must be, and the rest followed 
her without delay. But almost at the same time, the coun- 
cilor of commerce appeared at the kitchen-door which led 
out upon the gallery. He waved them back peremptorily. 
" Back! I say, nobody is hurt!" he cried down to them. 
" Well, God be thanked!" Their faces all lighted up. 
Let now whatever would fall down from that shackling 
roof, it hurt nobody, and all the other mischief could be 
mended by carpenter and slater. They could retire com- 
forted to the protecting walls of the main building. 

" Yes he escaped by a hair's-breath," said Barbara, in 
a resigned tone, rubbing the dust off her face with her 
apron. ' ' I can not understand how the boy escaped, it is 
perfectly incomprehensible! To the very last minute he 
was standing just by the baluster." 

She shook her head incredulously. " Why, it just had 
to be, and it's a piece of luck, a rare piece of good luck, 
that the worst did not happen. What a horrible thing it 
would have been for our house, and nobody ever would 
have been glad again while we lived." 

" Do not be so silly, Barbara!" interrupted Reynold. 
Just now he had stayed behind, because he dreaded the 
storm, very properly, as his worst foe. " You do exactly 
as if one of our own family had been in danger, and as if 
the Lamberts could possibly have put on mourning for an 
affliction happening to the painter's grandchild. Foolish 
twaddle! But you are all so! Nothing can move you but 
what happens to one of your own sort: but the harm done 
to your masters by this catastrophe is nothing to you. You 
think we have money by the car-load, and it matters not 
how much we are plucked and rifled. I know you!" 

He shook his hand, with its long withered fingers, at the 
group standing there, and turned off from* the disconcerted 
company with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. 

" That fun over there will cost us loads of money," said 
he to the chief clerk of the counting-room, while he nodded 
his head at the warehouse. " It is unpardonable of papa to 



138 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

have let the warehouse go to decay thus. Some of these 
days nothing of that kind will satisfy me, not a bolt out of 
order shall ever escape me. You may depend upon that, 
and though I should have to creep on all fours about the 
garret, spying out what should be amiss! Yes, and " he 
suddenly hushed, thrust his hands into his breeches- 
pockets, and stretching forward his long legs, leaned with 
his back against the wind-protected front wall. The coun- 
cilor of commerce was just crossing the yard on his way 
back. 

He still looked deeply moved, and his disheveled hair, 
hanging wildly over his forehead, strengthened the impres- 
sion. But at sight of the group of people, crowded together 
in the front hall, he evidently exerted his power of self- 
control, and drew his figure up to its full height. Eepul- 
sively his cold eye met the intensely eager glances of the 
people; it seemed as if he shunned being questioned about 
what had happened talking with his inferiors was never a 
habit of his. 

He beckoned to the man-servant, gave him a medicine- 
vial, which he had brought with him in his clinched hand, 
and sent him with it to the apothecary. 

" The old lady over there was injured by the shock; she 
is very unwell, and not a drop more of the medicine she 
uses was in the vial." This he said curtly, almost 
harshly, and at the same time apologetically to Aunt 
Sophie, and he was also evidently embarrassed. It was 
only a small Samaritan-like duty, a matter-of-course thing, 
to lend aid to a sick fellow-creature, but coming from this 
haughty, inaccessible man, it seemed a wonderful piece of 
condescension, more surprising to him, too, than anybody 
else. 

Margaret did now just what Aunt Sophie had done a 
little while ago, viz., with nimble fingers she tied a hand- 
kerchief over her head, and silently left the hall. 

" Whither away, Gretchen?" asked the councilor of 
commerce, catching her by the arm. 

Nevertheless she struggled forward. " I want to go 
and see after the sick woman, as a matter of course." 

" You will do no such thing, my child," said he com- 
posedly, drawing her to his side. " It is by no means a mat- 
ter of course that you imperil your life on account of some- 
body else's sudden sickness. Mrs. May is subject to these 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 139 

attacks, and often as she has had them, no one before ever 
went over to assist her in them. Such a going to and fro 
has never been customary between us, and I want no 
change made in this respect." 

Upon this very outspoken wish and command, Margaret 
silently loosened the kerchief tied under her chin. The 
servants vanished noiselessly behind the different doors, 
and the clerks returned hurriedly to their desks. Only 
Reynold was left. 

" Hurrah, that serves you right, Gretchen!" cried he 
maliciously. " Yes, to tie a blue apron around one, and 
go into poor houses, to nurse sick people, and wash dirty 
children, is now a great fashion among young ladies; and 
you, too, think, of course, how lovely and interesting 
Gretchen Lambert would appear as a Saint Elizabeth ! It 
is splendid that papa will put up with no such nonsense! 
And to-morrow the opportunity for a proceeding so out of 
taste will have passed away; is not this so, papa? Those 
people can not possibly stay in the warehouse, while it is 
being repaired, can they? They must go out of course!" 

" That is not necessary; those people stay where they 
are!" replied the councilor of commerce curtly, where- 
upon Reynold, plunging his hands deeper in his pockets 
and elevating his high shoulders yet higher, turned around 
in speechless chagrin, and went to the counting-room. 

The councilor of commerce laid his arm around his 
daughter, and led her into the drawing-room. He called 
for wine, and the first glasses of strong Burgundy were 
swallowed down, as though all the fiery glow of the wine 
were needed to restore his stagnant blood to circulation. 
Margaret seated herself on a low stool before the window, 
where she had been accustomed to sit, as a child, at Aunt 
Sophie's feet. She embraced her knees with her arms, 
and leaned her head against the cushioned seat of the arm- 
chair. She was alone with her papa. Within these four 
walls how cozy and comfortable it was the pure, moder- 
ately warm atmosphere, how sweet it was, laden with per- 
fume from the plants blooming on the window-shelf; the 
clock had not been deranged in the general tumult pre- 
vailing, but ticked quietly on now, as before, and the steps 
of yon silent man, as he paced the floor, absorbed in 
thought, kept regular time with the soft-going pendulum. 
But out of doors the tempest raged horribly; the windows 



140 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

clattered, while now and tlien there came over the market- 
place the sound of slamming house-doors and window- 
shutters. 

" I am afraid that will shake the whole roof off of the 
warehouse," said Margaret lifting up her head. 

" Yes, tiles will fall in plenty, but not the frame-work 
of the roof!" rejoined her father. " I examined it from 
the garret. The old scaffolding is like iron, strong and 
firmly jointed. What lies in ruins down in the yard, was 
the wretched patching of modern times." 

For a moment he stood facing her and the fast-fading 
daylight lit up his features with a parting gleam. The 
wine had done its duty; it had made the blood once more 
course rapidly through his veins, and chased from brow 
and cheeks the pallor of dismay. 

"And so little Max is actually safe and unharmed?" 
asked his daughter. 

" Yes; the piece of roof that broke loose shot away righ'; 
over him/' 

" A real miracle! One would like to believe that two 
hands were outheld protectingly over his curly head th<: 
hands, I mean, of his dead mother." 

The councilor of commerce kept silence. He turned 
away, and poured more wine into his glass. 

" I can not get rid of that awful impression; my hand;* 
and feet are trembling yet," added she after a momentary 
pause. ' ' To think of that beautiful young creature, full 
of life and vigor, suddenly killed or else lying hideously 
mangled beneath those beams, and heaps of rubbish " she 
broke off and covered her eyes with her hands. For a 
minute there was stillness in the room such stillness that 
the hum of agitated voices was distinctly heard coming 
from the kitchen. 

" Our people can not get composed, it would seem," said 
Margaret. ' ' They are fond of that child. Poor little 
rascal! His childhood is a lonely one. Germany is a 
foreign land to him, his mother dead, and his father whom 
he has never seen, far over the seas." 

" The little one is not to be pitied; he is the idol of his 
family," remarked the councilor of commerce. He still 
stood with averted head, held his wine-glass to the window- 
light, and scrutinized its darkly glowing contents; what ho 
said afterward had a thick and smothered sound. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 141 

" What by his father?" asked the young girl bitterly, 
and doubtingly. She shook her head. " He seems to 
concern himself very little about the child. Why does he 
not keep him with him, where his place is, as appointed by 
God and law?" 

The full glass was again set down untasted upon the 
table, and a shadowy smile flitted about the lips of the man 
now drawing nearer to her. 

" In so saying you are also pronouncing harsh sentence 
upon that father who allowed his daughter to be kept away 
from him for five whole years, are you not?" asked he", 
still continuing to smile, but at the same time with that 
nervous quivering of the under lip, which in him was ever 
a mark of inward agitation. 

She jumped up and nestled close to his side. 

" Ah! that is quite a different case!" protested she with 
animation. " Your runagate was always within reach, 
and how diligently did you care for, and visit her! Even 
now you have only to express the wish, and I'll stay by 
you, now and forever! But the father of little May " 

" Forever?" repeated the councilor of commerce. He 
ignored her last words, and spoke both loudly and quickly. 
" Forever? why child, let there come a whirlwind out of 
Mecklenburgh, and lo! my little snowflake will straightway 
be blown away, forever too!" 

She stepped back from him, and her countenance 
darkened. " Ah, do you know that already? They have 
been in a great hurry, those good people." 

" Whom do you mean by that?" 

" Why, who else but grandmamma and Uncle Herbert, 
that severe young statesman!" In comic rage she passed 
her hand through her curls, and then tossed them off her 
forehead. " Horrible! Here now they have undermined up 
to you, and four-and-twenty hours have hardly passed since 
Aunt Eliza's glorious babbling reached their ears. Oh, yes, 
I suppose I am to be married as speedily as possible! 
Precisely what they want just now is a title in the family 
the name of a foreign nobleman which shall graciously veil 
the lowliness of our poor house, and rise as clouds of grate- 
ful incense, into the nostrils of those in high places, mak- 
ing it pleasant and illustrious; and to this end the poor 
victim Gretchen is to be sacrificed. But matters are not 
adjusted so speedily." 



142 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

She smiled archly. 

" First of all, they must have the maiden before they 
can bind her. Uncle Herbert ; 

" What a queer idea you have of your uncle!" he inter- 
posed. " lie has no need of us Lamberts; it is all one to 
him what name you bear in future. lie wants to do every- 
thing independently. How many a one founders through 
this bold principle of self-reliance! Just in our time too, 
when all individual effort is to be merged in one great will- 
power, it is disagreeable, almost prohibited! But every- 
thing is permissible for him. He is a Sunday child to 
whom all hands unsought are extended helpfully, even 
though he roughly rejects them. I believe, even with re- 
gard to his marriage, he is constantly pondering whether 
the fair Heloise does not bring him more than he gives, 
hence his dallying." 

"That is not possible!" She shook her head incredu- 
lously and looked astonished, clapped her hands together 
and laughed. " That is just the opposite of what the world 
says about him." 

" The world! I should like to know who dares boast of 
knowing his mind ! Yes, in social circles he has an oblig- 
ing, accommodating manner; but this apparent pliability 
is hardly skin-deep: so much I know! He is thoroughly 
firm and direct in aim. I envy him his coolness of intel- 
lect, ah! how much!" He sighed deeply, at one draught 
swallowed down his glass of Burgundy, and then said: 
" Those characteristics bear him up, and have always kept 
him aiming, high grasping after the stars." 

" By no means, papa, not always!" she interposed 
laughingly. " There was a time when he descended from 
his heights and stooped to pluck the flowers of earth! That 
wondrously beautiful Blanche May, do you mind?" She 
was silenced by her father's suddenly bursting forth into a 
harsh, mocking laugh. And now, again, he paced up and 
down, with so boisterous and violent a step, that the old 
planks creaked beneath his feet. 

For a considerable while the councilor of commerce 
silently paced the apartment, until again he stood still in 
front of Gretchen, and then she was shocked ; he was actu- 
ally purple in the face, and his eyes looked wild, as they 
had done the day before, when he had turned the picture 
of the pretty Dora to the wall. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 143 

"Descended! Yes, descended, did you not say!" He 
stretched out his forefinger as though bringing accusation 
against her. ' ' You see your leveling principle does not 
carry you far here. But what does such a little girl 
know?" remarked he shrugging his shoulders and im- 
patiently drawing his hand through his hair. " So, my 
Gretchen is to be a Baroness Billingen," added he, after a 
pause, restraining himself. " I should like that right 
much ! It would make me proud ! I might step before all 
the old gentlemen in the parlors and say: ' See here, it is 
my daughter, who brings the seven-pointed coronet into 
our family/ " he broke off and clinched his teeth, and 
Margaret, who had started up in the beginning, hurt, sud- 
denly hung upon his arm, and looked smiling up into his 
face. 

" Well, then, take your baroness-daughter, you proud 
papa, and guide her! But pretty slowly, not at the 
stormy pace you have been just using!" said she, and she 
stroked his deeply reddened brow with gentle hand. " You 
are too red for me. I do not like it at all! so one, two, 
one, two let us keep step nicely! And if you think I am 
expressing my views, when I speak in uncle's sense, then 
you are a little mistaken. A man who finally pays his 
addresses at Prince's Court has condescended when he has 
chosen for his first love a poor painter's daughter, so judges 
the so-called world, and he himself, markedly, from his 
present standpoint. But you are not to ridicule so your 
little girl and her principles, you bad papa. I take very 
ill that reproach of inconsistency! I should not have been 
the one to underrate Blanche May, compared with the 
Pomeranian beauty out at Prince's Court, be the latter 
ever so white and red and stylish, assuredly not I! The 
beautiful painter's daughter was the beau ideal of my en- 
thusiastic child-soul ! My heart used fairly to beat if she 
suddenly stepped out upon the balcony, looking so radiantly 
fresh and graceful, so indescribably lovely, just like a fairy- 
tale! I would have been charmed to call her ' aunt.' With 
the duke's niece all will end, of course in a profound court- 
esy, when I am introduced, and most respectful inquiries 
after her ladyship's health!" 

She spoke with a mixture of gayety and seriousness that 
characterized her whole nature, and her father moved 
along, at her side, at the slow pace which she had dictated. 



144 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

His head sunk low upon his breast, as though he were ab- 
sorbed in his own thoughts, and hardly heard her chatter- 
ing; but his heart beat strongly and impatiently against her 
arm; tranquil he was not. "And now in earnest about 
that baroness-daughter it is nothing, really and truly 
nothing it were too costly a jest!" she continued in the 
same tone. " I am thinking what would I be advantaged 
by a mere name, if I sacrifice to it my whole being and in- 
clinations, as I should in this case? A bad exchange! 
That good John Billingen would gladly marry me, I am 
thinking, only because for the moment he has lost his 
head, therefore he seriously courts me; but a rude awaken- 
ing will come to him from his idle dream. I know that. 
That tall, brawny Goliath is a coward, who is completely 
under his mother's thumb, and this mother of his towers 
up like a giantess beside her son, and now fancy your thin, 
small Gretchen between them; only fancy how that old 
mother-in-law (who is terribly proud of her noble birth) 
would pluck one little feather after another out of her 
wings, so that she could never again fly back to the parent 
nest, and the polite Avorld could never distinguish her by 
her plumage! And would the old gentlemen rejoice at the 
blushes brought to my cheek by this mother-in-law of 
mine? I trow not! Just like me, they would say, ' No, I 
thank you ' to the offer of a seven-pointed coronet!" 

She paused in her walk, blocked up his path, and placed 
her hands upon his shoulders. " Promise, papa/" she 
feelingly implored, " not to torment me as the others do? 
Will you not let your snow-flake whirl whither she will? I 
think I am old enough, too, to find my own way!" 

With his hand he stroked the curly head pressed so 
fondly to his breast. " No, I will not force you, Gretchen," 
answered he with a softness that went to her heart. " Years 
ago I should have exerted all my authority to persuade 
you, but now I do not want to lose you, for you were lost 
to me in that family, such as you describe it, doubly lost 
s circumstances now stand. The storm out-of-doors 
shakes my soul to its foundations, like the voice of an elo- 
quent preacher, and I am tired and disposed to be yield- 
ing. I have need for my little comrade with her clear 
eyes, her straightforward sense of right yes, in the very 
near future, Gretchen 

" Done!" cried she, shaking his hand heartily and 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 145 

vigorously, like a good comrade, in very t-.ootli. " Now I 
,im easy, papa! Just now, when so many of our class 
timidly cringe and demean themselves, and to their own 
hurt help to prop up anew what is old and decayed, there 
is need for burgher-pride to give some energetic sign of life, 
though it comes only through the medium of a girl. And 
now Fll go and fetch you a glass of fresh water. You get 
continually redder in the face!" 

He held her back with the remark that he had in his 
chamber a preventive for the attacks of dizziness that 
daily troubled him now. With burning lips he kissed her 
on the forehead and left the room. 

" It comes and goes, like a thief in the night! Give 
yourself no uneasiness on that score, Gretchen!" said Aunt 
Sophie, who had just entered with an arm full of tea-things, 
in order to prepare for supper. She thus spoke in order to 
relieve the apprehensions of the solicitous young girl. She 



seized the wine-bottle and held it against the light! " Empty 
all to a few dregs/' scolded she grimly. " You need not 
wonder that his face is red. The doctor has been 
him against strong wine, year in and year out; bu 
a fright or a care turn up, and he always calls 
strongest! They will never be any wiser men!" 



CHAPTER XIII. 

IN the drawing-room the roller-blinds were lowered. 
Who cared any longer to look out upon the market-place, 
where those unhappy creatures whom tyrannical " must" 
drove into the open air were like shapeless, fluttering 
bundles of clothes, struggling around the street-corners, at 
the risk of their lives, where the howling monster was 
furiously lashing the water in the fountain basin, and play- 
ing catch-ball with all things that were not fixtures, hurl- 
ing them to the ridge of the roof and over. It had turned 
bitterly cold; but Aunt Sophie extinguished the fire in the 
stove, and instead of it placed the humming tea-kettle on 
the table. " This evening we must be warmed from 
within," said she, "not another spark of fire should be 
kindled in the chimney." Once more she had made the 
circuit of the whole house, examining all the doors, win- 
dows and lutherns, giving it as her opinion that she would 



Z46 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

not be surprised if to-night the roof of the main building 
should be spirited away, and come down with a crash into 
the market: it was frightful up there. 

There was no pleasant reunion to take place under these 
circumstances. The councilor of commerce would not 
eat, and remained upstairs; Reynold also, after grumbling- 
ly swallowing a cup of tea, withdrew to his own room, 
carrying with him his uncontrollable rage at the waste 
entailed by the accident to the warehouse. So Aunt Sophie 
and Margaret remained by themselves, watching through 
the expected dangers of the night. Neither did the serv- 
ants go to bed. They sat up together in the kitchen; the 
maids sticking their freezing arms under their aprons, and 
the men chewing at their cold pipes, and listening in dumb 
anxiety to the frightful commotion of the elements raging 
out-of-doors. It was as though this ancient little town 
which for a thousand years had crouched like a faithful 
watch-dog at the gate of the Thuringian forest, defying all 
storms and sieges in time of war, in this one night was to 
be splintered to shivers like a child's plaything, by the 
hurricane. Under its shocks, the earth trembled, chimneys 
toppled over, and tiles came rattling down from the roofs 
and breaking upon the street pavements, and with the 
bellowing and roaring of rage mingled, as it were, unearthly 
laments, as though the deeply imbedded sleepers in that 
quiet grave-yard outside the gate had been awaked by the 
irresistible force of that driving storm, and wandered 
through the streets, seeking the spots which had once been 
their familiar haunts. 

And toward the twelfth hour, the room door opened, 
and Barbara appeared on the threshold, quite pale, shak- 
ing from fear, and pointing with the forefinger of her right 
hand to the ceiling. There was a tapping and thumping, 
as of a cavalry-man's boots, distinctly to be heard in the 
upstairs passage, and moreover, a knocking and beating as 
if somebody was locked in and wanted to get out; she 
hissed between her chattering teeth, but immediately 
vanished again, when Aunt Sophie, without saying a word, 
arose from her sofa-corner, lighted a lantern, and left the 
room with Margaret. Up in the front hall above they 
were met by a gust of wind, so violent as almost to drive 
them back. On the last beaufet burned the councilor's 
large table-lamp, and the door to the passage stood wide 



THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 117 

open. The draught here was terrific the wind coming 
with condensed force as through a long, dark tube. Aunt 
Sophie as quickly as possible removed the flaring lamp to 
a more protected situation, and meanwhile, Margaret en- 
tered the passage with uplifted lantern. 

The storm had driven in the window at the end of the 
passage; thence its icy blast came in direct from the 
heavens; the torn-open window-shutters it dashed to and 
fro, striking and thrusting at the pictures, leaning against 
the wall, a part of which, already lay on the ground. Here 
was the explanation of the tapping and thumping. But 
that window was so small, that it seemed impossible for such 
an immense volume of wind to proceed from this source. 
Margaret could scarcely stand against its force, but fought 
her way forward until suddenly she bounded back. 

She stood in front of the small staircase that led down 
sideways to the warehouse garret. It had ever been a 
gloomy, retired spot; but now the dark sky with its stars 
looked in through the bare scaffolding of the roof to the 
warehouse the unused leaves to the door were thrown 
back, and were only half hung on their hinges, and, inside 
the door-frame with difficulty maintaining his footing, 
stood her father. 

He saw the light of the lantern, whose rays fell at his 
side and beyond, upon the planks of the chamber under- 
neath the roof, and turned around. 

" Is that you, Gretchen?" he asked. " Does the up- 
roar chase you, too, through the house? It looks badly up 
here. This bit of man's creation falls to pieces, as at the 
Bound of the trump, ushering in the day of judgment 
not the sun alone, but the storm as well leads on to-day, 
my child!" he added with a strange smile that she could 
not understand. " Look, for hundreds of years mysteri- 
ous darkness has held sway beneath that old roof, and now 
the stars shine down upon its plank floor, and one expects 
to see the footprints of those who have walked there in 
other days." 

He went up the stairs; Aunt Sophie too, was just com- 
ing along the passage. She clapped her hands. "What 
are you doing there? we'll all be fit for the lunatic asylum 
soon! It is oare as a desert there!" scolded she, as she 
indignantly pointed at the door which had been burst 
open. " In the memory of man not a soul has ever touched 



150 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

The next morning not a breath of wind was blowing. 
The sun poured down a flood of glittering gold upon all 
this work of destruction, from the pierced towers and roofs 
of the churches to the lowly garden paling, and caused 
even broken bits of shattered window-panes to emit the 
brilliancy of diamonds. Yes, the " spectacle-maker " had 
done a great deal of harm, and the mechanics had their 
hands full now repairing the mischief. 

At break of day a messenger of evil-tidings had come in 
from Millbrook. The tempest had injured the factory 
buildings to such an extent that a long cessation of work 
was to be dreaded. Thereupon the councilor of commerce 
had ridden away at a very early hour. He had looked 
quite fresh, and had also drunk composedly a cup of coffee 
before starting, said Aunt Sophie in reply to Margaret's 
anxious inquiries, she having been asleep at the time. To 
be sure a seam of care had been perceptible between his 
eyes; and this was no wonder, for it was no trifle for the 
factory to be idle, and besides, heavy inroads must be 
made upon his ready money merely to repair the injuries 
done the home buildings, for by daylight matters looked 
desperate. 

Margaret stepped out, and stood upon the front steps of 
the side-wing; thence she could survey the devastation 
wrought in the court-yard. At this instant Herbert also 
emerged from the house, booted and spurred, with riding- 
whip in hand, on his way to the stables. Whether he did 
not indeed perceive the old man, or whether the principle 
swaying the main-building, obtained with him also name- 
ly, that the existence of occupants of the warehouse was to 
be, as much as possible, ignored enough he entered the 
stable without returning the courteous salutation of the 
painter May, who was standing close by the fountain. 

The white-haired old man had, as it seemed, been clam- 
bering all over the warehouse, clearing away piles of rub- 
bish, in order to discover and put together the pieces of the 
broken fountain nymph. He had just picked up the head 
of the marble image from the grass, when Margaret walked 
up and held out her hand to him with the greatest 
cordiality. She had always liked him, the ever-bright and 
genial artist, who looked out upon the world through his 
spectacles with such a kindly true eye, and to this day she 
bad never forgotten that moment, when as a child in her 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 151 

forlorn and hopeless condition she had nestled up to his 
breast, with the blissful feeling of being in a place of 
security. She could never forget that. 

He was as much delighted as any child to meet her 
again, and in reply to her sympathizing inquiries after his 
sick wife, he joyfully assured her that all were well and 
cheerful at home, although for the time being the roof 
over their heads was lacking. The storm had made terri- 
ble havoc, but its most reckless proceeding had been the 
destruction of the fountain nymph, a rare specimen of art 
that had ever been to him as the apple of his eye. And 
now he spoke about the fine outlines of the nymph-head in 
his hands, and of other famous statues of women, renowned 
in the antique world, a theme upon which Margaret en- 
tered with animation, so much the rather as the old man 
displayed a remarkably fine artistic taste. And meanwhile 
the young statesman had reappeared standing in the stable- 
door; he had bowed to the young girl from there, and now 
waiting, he walked slowly up and down. 

Margaret had only responded to his greeting by a passing 
nod. The manner in which this haughty aspirant for 
office isolated himself infuriated her. Well, he need not 
trouble himself to wait for her. Moving on, as they 
talked, she went with the painter across the yard to the 
warehouse; there she jumped upon the mound of rubbish 
and held out both hands to help up her companion, who 
was with difficulty clambering after her. Light though 
she was, the bulwark being made up of heterogeneous 
materials thrown loosely together, it creaked and gave way 
beneath her feet, and every step of the old man, cautious as 
it was, produced a vibratory motion. 

Now, all at once, life came into the apparently passive 
and apathetic man of affairs. He threw his riding-whip 
down upon the garden-table, and with rapid strikes hurried 
to the ruins. Silently he mounted the nearest rafter and 
stretched up his arm, in order to support and catch the 
tottering girl in case she fell. 

"Oh! please don't, uncle! You run the risk of soil- 
ing your new gloves!" cried she, with a half laugh, and 
only slightly turning her head toward him, while with in- 
tense interest she followed the last exertion of the old man, 
who had just fortunately gained the ground. " Good-day, 
Mr. May!" called she out to him in a cordial tone; then 



150 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

The next morning not a breath of wind was blowing. 
The sun poured down a flood of glittering gold upon all 
this work of destruction, from the pierced towers and roofs 
of the churches to the lowly garden paling, and caused 
even broken bits of shattered window-panes to emit the 
brilliancy of diamonds. Yes, the " spectacle-maker " had 
done a great deal of harm, and the mechanics had their 
hands full now repairing the mischief. 

At break of day a messenger of evil-tidings had come in 
from Millbrook. The tempest had injured the factory 
buildings to such an extent that a long cessation of work 
was to be dreaded. Thereupon the councilor of commerce 
had ridden away at a very early hour. He had looked 
quite fresh, and had also drunk composedly a cup of coffee 
before starting, said Aunt Sophie in reply to Margaret's 
anxious inquiries, she having been asleep at the time. To 
be sure a seam of care had been perceptible between his 
eyes; and this was no wonder, for it was no trifle for the 
factory to be idle, and besides, heavy inroads must be 
made upon his ready money merely to repair the injuries 
done the home buildings, for by daylight matters looked 
desperate. 

Margaret stepped out, and stood upon the front steps of 
the side-wing; thence she could survey the devastation 
wrought in the court-yard. At this instant Herbert also 
emerged from the house, booted and spurred, with riding- 
whip in hand, on his way to the stables. Whether he did 
not indeed perceive the old man, or whether the principle 
swaying the main-building, obtained with him also name- 
ly, that the existence of occupants of the warehouse was to 
be, as much as possible, ignored enough he entered the 
stable without returning the courteous salutation of the 
painter May, who was standing close by the fountain. 

The white-haired old man had, as it seemed, been clam- 
bering all over the warehouse, clearing away piles of rub- 
bish, in order to discover and put together the pieces of the 
broken fountain nymph. He had just picked up the head 
of the marble image from the grass, when Margaret walked 
up and held out her hand to him with the greatest 
cordiality. She had always liked him, the ever-bright and 
genial artist, who looked out upon the world through his 
spectacles with such a kindly true eye, and to this day she 
}j*d never forgotten that moment, when as a child in her 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 151 

forlorn and hopeless condition she had nestled up to his 
breast, with the blissful feeling of being in a place of 
security. She could never forget that. 

He was as much delighted as any child to meet her 
again, and in reply to her sympathizing inquiries after his 
sick wife, he joyfully assured her that all were well and 
cheerful at home, although for the time being the roof 
over their heads was lacking. The storm had made terri- 
ble havoc, but its most reckless proceeding had been the 
destruction of the fountain nymph, a rare specimen of art 
that had ever been to him as the apple of his eye. And 
now he spoke about the fine outlines of the nymph-head in 
! his hands, and of other famous statues of women, renowned 
in the antique world, a theme upon which Margaret en- 
tered with animation, so much the rather as the old man 
displayed a remarkably fine artistic taste. And meanwhile 
the young statesman had reappeared standing in the stable- 
door; he had bowed to the young girl from there, and now 
waiting, he walked slowly up and down. 

Margaret had only responded to his greeting by a passing 
nod. The manner in which this haughty aspirant for 
office isolated himself infuriated her. Well, he need not 
trouble himself to wait for her. Moving on, as they 
talked, she went with the painter across the yard to the 
warehouse; there she jumped upon the mound of rubbish 
and held out both hands to help up her companion, who 
was with difficulty clambering after her. Light though 
she was, the bulwark being made up of heterogeneous 
materials thrown loosely together, it creaked and gave way 
beneath her feet, and every step of the old man, cautious as 
it was, produced a vibratory motion. 

Now, all at once, life came into the apparently passive 
and apathetic man of affairs. He threw his riding-whip 
down upon the garden-table, and with rapid strikes hurried 
to the ruins. Silently he mounted the nearest rafter and 
stretched up his arm, in order to support and catch the 
tottering girl in case she fell. 

"Oh! please don't, uncle! You run the risk of soil- 
ing your new gloves!" cried she, with a half laugh, and 
only slightly turning her head toward him, while with in- 
tense interest she followed the last exertion of the old man, 
who had just fortunately gained the ground. " Good-day, 
Mr. May!" called she out to him in a cordial tone; then 



152 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

she took one step sideways and flew like a feather over 
the jagged pile of wood away down upon the ground on 
the other side. 

" That was a useless bravado, which hardly anybody 
would admire/' said her uncle frostily, while he shook 
from his foot a bit of lath that had fallen there. 

" Bravado?" repeated she incredulously. " Do you really 
think there was any danger in it? Down here those rotten 
boards threaten nobody's life any longer." 

His eyes furtively scanned her delicate, pliant form. 
" It would depend upon who fell between these planks 
all spiked with nails." 

" Ah, I suppose you account the good old painter im- 
pervious to wounds both physically and morally. You 
neither stirred hand nor foot to help him over, any more 
than a while ago, you returned his polite ' good-morn- 
ing/ ' 

He stood still and looked her straight in the eyes that 
were flashing with undisguised displeasure. " A greeting is 
like small coin; it passes from one to another and abides 
with none/' replied he quietly. " If you believe that nar- 
row-minded haughtiness hinders me from returning a 
salutation, you are mistaken. I did not see the man." 

" What, not even when he stood there by my side?" 

" You think I should have walked up and added my 
sapient opinion on the nymph-torso," interposed he, and a 
smile played about his mouth. " Would you really like 
him to whom you apply so often the venerable title of 
uncle, to expose himself to ridicule in his old days? I 
know nothing about these things, and even though I 
should interest myself ever so much in them, I could never 
get the time to become, in any sense, a connoisseur." 

" Oh, time and pleasure enough, uncle!" laughed she. 
" I know all about a big boy, once standing there under 
the kitchen windows" she pointed to the main build- 
ing " with his pockets full of pebbles, and for hours 
bombarded the poor nymph with those pretty round 
stones." 

"Ah, see. Then there was a time when 1 seemed young 
in your eyes." 

" ' Originally/ you mean to say, uncle! A time when 
the dress-coat of the diplomatist did not yet impose the 
least possible restraint, when the climbing-pole was f- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 153 

shadowy thing seen only in the dim distance: a time when 
passion's glow flamed in your eyes and ruled your hand. I 
felt it, there!" and she pointed to where the table and 
chairs stood under the linden-trees. " God knows in what 
corner that white rose now lies, crumbling, unnoticed, to 
decay, for which you struggled then with a bitterness and 
fire as great as if it had been the beautiful; fair girl her- 
self!" 

She saw with satisfaction how repeatedly he changed 
color. Of all those who crowded around to flatter the min- 
ister in spe, the future connection of the princely house, 
assuredly no one would have ventured to remind him of 
this " folly of his youth " she did it with a good will. He 
ought to be made to feel shame, when he compared that 
first enthusiastic love with his present self-seeking and 
ossification of heart. 

But peculiarly abashed or confounded he did not seem. 
He walked off and surveyed what had once been the bal- 
cony in front of the warehouse. Once its luxuriantly grow- 
ing green vines had formed a pretty frame for the loveliest 
of young girls. Like a dream of enchantment, it had all 
vanished. The network of vines had been pulled down by 
the falling roof, and up to the tiniest leaf had been buried 
beneath that hideous heap of ruins and the maiden? Since 
she had gone forth through the warehouse gate into that 
wide, wide world no human eye had seen her again; nobody 
hereabout heard from her. 

" Fata morgana!" said he softly to himself, as though 
lost in memories of the past. A while ag*o he had smiled 
slightly at mention of the climbing-pole, and now too the 
pame smile played over his features, while a slight blush 
tinged his cheeks. " Not the rose alone, but a strip of 
blue ribbon that the wind had blown off of her fair hair 
down into the yard, and a few crumpled bits of paper 
thrown heedlessly over the balusters still lie in an old 
pocket-book of mine, faithfully guarded as treasured 
relics," said he, half ironically, and yet with emotion. He 
shook his head. " To think that you should still remem- 
ber that incident!" 

She laughed. " Wonderful, is it not? At that moment 
I feared you and your dumb, pale rage." A child forgets 
nothing so little as an arbitrary act against which her sense 
of justice revolts. The strict young collegian had always 



154 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

hurled thunder-bolts against robbery or theft if the fingers 
of naughty Gretchen had slyly come in contact with grand- 
ma's plate of fruit, and there was he himself, like a thief, 
taking violent possession of what belonged to Miss May, 
Mid secretly slipping it into his vest-pocket. 

Now he laughed too. " And from that minute you 
have been my enemy." 

" No, uncle; you have a bad memory. Good friends we 
had never been, even before that. You never could bear 
your sister's oldest child, and therefore I used consistently 
to torment you. This account has been honestly and 
fairly settled. " 

His brow had darkened as Margaret spoke; and now, 
too, he looked grave. " We should have been quits, then," 
said he; "in spite of that, are you bent upon holding me 
to a strict reckoning now " 

1 ' Now, when I am using every effort to respect you in a 
manner commensurate with your title and dignities?" 
Smilingly she shrugged her shoulders. " It seems as if 
you take my officiousness ill in reminding you of that white 
rose; and you are right, too, it was forward and wanting in 
tact, moreover. But it is strange: just now when I was 
talking with the old gentleman an eventful day of my 
child's history rose up so vividly before my eyes that I can 
not get rid of the impression. Then I saw the painter's 
daughter for the last time. She was pale, and had been 
weeping, while her long, golden hair fell loosely over her 
back. From the time that I was a tiny little thing I have 
always had a foolish weakness for girlish beauty. The slen- 
der Greek girls of modern days attracted me to Uncle 
Theobald's vexation fully as much as any disemboweled 
treasures of the past; and in Vienna I followed a Servian 
beauty through many streets and lanes, and yet none of 
these apparitions have been able to obliterate from my 
mind the image of Blanche May. The girl passed away so 
completely. I do not believe anybody in our house knows 
what has become of her or ' 

She ceased speaking and questioned him with a mischiev- 
ously eloquent glance of her eyes. 

" I do not know either, Margaret," asseverated he grave- 
ly. " Since that morning when she set off on her travels," 
and the " strict collegian " in his wild despair pondered as 
to whether life was really worth living, or whether it had 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 155 

not better be cut short by a bullet, " I have nevei heard of 
her again. But it has been with me the same as with your- 
self. I could not forget her for a long, long while, until 
suddenly the right one has come; for in spite of all this 
it was not she." 

Margaret looked up at him in amazement; what he said 
sounded so true, so as if it came from inmost conviction, 
that she could not for a moment doubt his sincerity. He 
really loved, then, this Heloise Von Taubeneck. He was 
not then courting her for the sake of his career, as the 
wicked world insisted. No, he would do the same were 
she the painter's daughter. Papa had been right in his 
assertion that Herbert, in spite of his vaulting ambition 
and energetic push, nevertheless despised crooked means. 

Meanwhile the hostler appeared repeatedly in the stable- 
door; and now Herbert beckoned to him. His horse was 
brought out and he swung himself upon his back. 

" Are you going to ride to Prince's Court?" asked Mar- 
garet, laying her hand in his right hand, which he once 
more offered to her after he had mounted. 

" To Prince's Court and further," assented he. " The 
storm has inflicted terrible damage in that direction, I am 
told." 

With a gentle pressure he resigned her hand, which he 
had all this time clasped firmly, and rode off. 

Margaret involuntarily stood still and looked after him 
until he had vanished behind the gate-pillars of the main 
building. She had done him injustice, and what was 
worse, she had repeatedly spoken in a manner to hurt his 
feelings, from occupying this wrong standpoint that was 
painful. And he actually loved her that cool, phlegmatic, 
easy-going Heloise, the exact counterpart of that airy but- 
terfly who had once sported there in her green arbor! In- 
comprehensible! But Aunt Sophie was right. " Yes, 
where love does light," she was constantly saying when she 
told of the "world's wonder," that once upon a time a 
certain person had actually fallen in love with her own big 
nose. With head thoughtfully bent Gretchen slowly re- 
turned to the door of the side-wing. There in the grass by 
the fountain lay the severed hand of the nymph. She 
picked it up, and at sight of the characteristic form she 
had to think of the different hypotheses of the old paintej 
referring to the antique original of the statue; but only for 



156 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

a moment, however; then her eyes were again veiled behind 
their long lashes, and as if lost in a dream she mounted the 
front-door steps. The most interesting problem was and 
still is the human soul! 

Later the yard was full of workmen. The clearing up 
of the rubbish caused a terrible noise, that soon drove Mar- 
garet from her cozy room, with its outlook upon the scene 
of confusion. Now she sat as she used to do in the bay 
window of the sitting-room and dipped her pen in the big 
porcelain ink-stand which years ago had been to blame for 
so many blots on the copy-books and aprons of the un- 
lucky Gretchen. She wanted to write to her uncle in Ber- 
lin, but could not feel in the mood for it: her thoughts 
were perpetually on the wing, wondering what terrible evil 
could be impending to have warranted the warning given 
her last night, " To-morrow there will be a storm up yon- 
der as wild as the one under which our old house is now 
trembling/' That was what her father had said, pointing 
to the upper story. What must and should happen was a 
riddle to her. Between papa and the relations up there 
the best understanding seemed to exist; not the slightest 
trace of disagreement was apparent; and yet some secret 
difference must prevail which by degrees the head of the 
Lambert family had found intolerable, for he wanted " to 
put an end to it " at any cost. 

Under the front windows of the house it was little less 
noisy than in the court-yard. It had been a market day. 
Here and there, higgling over butter, eggs and fruit might 
still be heard, and empty wood and vegetable carts rattled 
over the pavement on their way home. Then came, in 
procession along the market place, the members of the 
well-known singing club recruited from the pupils of the 

higher institutions of learning. B was one of the few 

Thuringian towns which still protected and fostered this 
ancient usage, descending from the alms-begging monks 
and later bacchanalians. Like a flock of jackdaws they 
came along, boys and young men, in their round black 
cloaks and black caps pressed down upon their youthful 
brows. Such a one had been Martin Luther, Aunt 
Sophie's favorite hero, and like-minded with the noble 
Cotta dame at Eisenbach: she year in and year out paid tho 
expenses for dinner of two poor scholars out of her own 
pocket 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 157 

Over yonder, in front of the drug-store, they sung a 
choral, and soon afterward formed themselves in a wide 
circle around the Lambert house and chanted the hymn 
"It is appointed in the council of God." They sung 
badly although correctly, as just drilled by their precentor, 
for choristers, young as they were, for the most part have 
nothing to do with soul and expression. And yet these 
tones somehow strangely affected Margaret's heart, and a 
feeling of timid foreboding crept over her; yes, that horri- 
ble scare yesterday, the storm in the night, and present 
state of suspense were making their impression upon her, 
and her nerves were just a little unstrung. 

And Aunt Sophie came in r3peatedly, inspected the prep- 
arations for their noonday meal and scared away a fly from 
the fruit-dish. " Matters must be very bad at the factory 
to keep your father so long," said she to the young girl at 
the window. " Barbara is scolding like anything in the 
kitchen because the while her pastry is losing juice and 
flavor. " 

And after a glance out the window over the market where 
the scholars were just dispersing, and there was still no sign 
of the longed-for rider, she made this suggestion : "You 
could just go quickly upstairs, Gretchen. The locksmith 
is up there mending the garret door. I am uneasy lest .he 
should not be particular enough about not touching those 
pictures leaning against the wall. " 

Margaret went up past the unharmed pictures. The 
pieces of board which had propped it up had been removed, 
and the door stood open as it had done the night before. 
The locksmith was busy at the broken hinges, and car- 
penters were working under the bare scaffolding of the roof. 

She stepped out upon the creaking boards beneath the 
strong brown beams that outlined the form of the roof with 
tooth-like sharpness against the blue sky. Now bright 
October sunshine lay upon the footprint of which her papa 
had spoken last night. She shook her head ; fine soles of 
shoes had, most assuredly, never gone over these rough nn- 
planed planks, at best, only the nailed boots of packers in 
the olden times. Old houses indeed have their secrets; 
and for Sunday children the eyes of familiar spirits glitter 
beneath veiling layers of dust and cobwebs, while hints of 
deeds that shun the light, and evil done in other days, come 
from all corners. But why just here in the former storing- 



158 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

place of ponderous bales of linen did the storm have to 
hunt up an unsolved riddle and bring it to light? This 
she could not comprehend ; the less to-day under laughing 
skies than last night when her papa had spoken so strangely. 

Up here in the open air a tolerably strong breeze was 
blowing, which disarranged the young girl's hair. She 
drew out of her pocket a little black lace shawl, tied it 
over her head, and was just going to explore the garret 
when a loud screeching of female voices was heard coming 
from the kitchen windows which instantly arrested her 
steps. Not a face showed itself at the windows, but at this 
minute the coachman rushed into the yard and ran to the 
stable, while various other men not belonging to the house- 
hold ran with him. The workmen jumped down from the 
heap of ruins, and in a trice a knot of men had gathered in 
the middle of the yard around a peasant who, with flying 
breath and awe-stricken voice spoke his tale as though he 
dreaded an echo from the walls themselves. 

" Behind the Millbrook thicket/' came faintly up, and 
" they found him behind the Millbrook thicket," suddenly 
said a voice close to the half -open door of the nearest gar- 
ret room. It was an apprentice boy who had just come up 
from below. " His horse was tied to a tree," he went on 
breathlessly narrating, " and he was lying on the moss: 
the market-women thought he was asleep. Now they have 
carried him back to the factory. Such a rich man as he 
was, with so many factory hands under him, and coachmen 
and servants, and then to be left all alone to " he hushed, 
struck dumb before the horrified girlish face under its 
black lace environment before the great, staring eyes and 
the slight form that with arms hanging limp, passed by 
him and his comrades like one walking in a dream. She 
did not ask " Is he dead?" Those pallid lips were convul- 
sively closed. Silently she slid from door to door down the 
steps of the warehouse and through the open door out into 
the street. 

And now, with fleet step, she hastened through the re- 
tired still lane the same way that she had once run out of 
fear of the boarding-school. Not a thought indeed re- 
minding her of that time came to her; neither did she ad- 
vance through waving corn-fields, brooded over by the glow 
left in the wake of a July sun. Far away stretched the 
stubble-fields, whence flocks of crows flew up. She heard 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 159 

not the sharp cawing of the birds, which was the only sound 
breaking the death-like stillness of the autumn fields. It 
seemed to her as if those words sung by the chorus of boys 
were ever ringing in her ears, " It is appointed in the coun- 
cil of God. " And then for a few seconds she stood still, 
and, groaning, pressed her hands to her ears and shut her 
eyes. No, the worst had not happened! Not like tender 
grain, which a single cut of the scythe mows down, could 
such a strong, powerful frame as that succumb: not so 
would that dark hand circumvent the accomplishment of 
human plans and resolutions, and brush from the lips 
rashly decisive words. On flew her feet in mad career over 
the open fields up the hill through the rustling leaves with 
which the last night's storm had strewn the path behind 
the woods. She could not move fast enough to get rid of 
that unspeakable torture, to see that it had only been a 
bad attack of vertigo, that all was again well, all as of old, 
that his voice would speak to her as ever, his eyes look at 
her, and that abominable hour be outlived as a hideous 
dream. 

" They found him behind the Millbrook thicket/' sound- 
ed again startlingly in her ear; and now, arresting her 
foot, and the sweetly ensnaring idea suggested itself that 
all would turn out to have been an illusory dream. There, 
where birches are mixed in with beech-trees, that was the 
spot! There the ground had been evidently trampled 
down like a battle-field; there strong limbs of trees had 
been pulled off in order to make room. Her inward 
strength broke down completely as under a heavy blow, 
and finally, when the thicket and the first village houses 
lay behind her, and the factory buildings spread out be- 
fore at a stone's throw, she leaned with tottering knees 
against one of the linden trees which shaded the gate to the 
factory court-yard, whither the workmen resorted for rest 
and refreshment. 

In the yard stood many of the workmen in groups; but 
not a sound of the human voice was to be heard, only the 
tramping of a horse's hoofs it was Herbert's horse being 
led to and fro. At the same instant as Margaret reached 
the linden tree Herbert came from the garden into the 
factory yard, and almost instantaneously afterward a hand- 
some equipage turned aside from the public road skirting 
the premises and pulled up before the gate. As through 



160 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

a mist the young girl saw fluttering ribbons and waving 
plumes the ladies from Prince's Court sat in the carriage. 

" For heaven's sake, dear Mr. Marshall, say something 
to relieve my mind!" cried Baroness Von Taubeneck to 
Herbert, who stepped up tc the carriage door and bowed. 
lie was as pale as a ghost. " Dear me! how you do look! 
Then indeed that horrible, incredible piece of news just 
told me by Colonel Von Hermsleben when we met him is 
true? Our poor, dear councilor ' 

" He lives, uncle, be lives, does he not?" breathed a 
pleading, almost failing voice close beside him, and burn- 
ing fingers clasped his hand. 

He turned around greatly shocked: " Ah, Margaret!" 

The ladies in the carriage bent forward and stared at the 
rich merchant's daughter, who, overheated and covered 
with dust, had come along in a simple morning-gown and 
a black shawl thrown over her head like any servant-girl. 

" How? Miss Lambert your niece, dear Mr. Marshall?" 
asked the lady, dubiously, and with hesitation, but at the 
same time with a spice of that irrepressible curiosity which 
asserts itself even in moments the most painful. 

He did not answer; and Margaret had not even a glance 
for his future noble mother-in-law. What recked she in 
this horrible moment of the relations of these three to one 
another! In wild agony her eye was fastened upon Her- 
bert's distorted face. 

" Margaret ' He said no more, but the anguish ex- 
pressed in his tone spoke volumes. She shuddered, pushed 
away his hand, to which she had been clinging, and crossed 
the yard to the pavilion. 

" She seems very nearly wild; she has totally lost her 
head," she heard the clear, cool voice of the fair Heloise 
exclaim compassionately as she moved away. " How else 
could she possibly have gone along the town streets in that 
crazy attire?" 

In the front hall of the pavilion stood two of the town 
surgeons about to take their leave, and the superintendent's 
wife, her eyes swimming in tears; and whispered words of 
a stroke of apoplexy and a beautiful, enviable death, smote 
upon Margaret's ear. Without lifting her eyes she glided 
past the speakers and entered the chamber which her papa 
was accustomed to occupy. Yes, there he lay upon his 
bed of restj his handsome face looking like alabaster ir 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 161 

contrast with the crimson pillow upon which it was 
couched. A peaceful sleeper, whose weary brain had been 
painlessly released by death from the necessity for solving 
any more dark enigmas! At his feet sat grandpapa, his 
white head buried in his hands. 

The old man looked up when his grandchild sunk down 
beside the death-bed in speechless grief. He was not so 
amazed to see her come in this " crazy fashion " upon her 
own feet he knew his Gretchen. Silently, with soft hand, 
he drew her to him, and there at last upon his faithful 
breast her pent-up grief found relief in copious tears. 



, CHAPTER XIV. 

IN the front hall, between the door of the great parlor 
and the middle door lying opposite, was the traditional place 
where all who had borne in life the name of Lambert ap- 
peared once more in grand although silent state to bid a 
last farewell ere being laid away in the damp vault outside 
the gate. Here too had the cross-grained Mrs. Judith 
lain, a smiling splendor upon her ill-tempered face. She 
had immediately given up her desperate struggle with death 
after she had wrested from her unwilling husband that 
oath, and stretched out her bony, ugly limbs to take their 
last repose. 

And here, amid blooming hot-house plants which stood 
around, the silver inlaid coffin of the rich woman, it was 
said that Mr. Justus Lambert had seen the fair Dora for 
the first time. She was the orphaned daughter of one of 
his business friends who had named Mr. Justus her guard- 
ian in his will. And so it happened that one evening a 
traveling carriage halted before the Lambert house, and as 
nobody concerned themselves about the carriage, although 
quantities of people were streaming up the finely polished 
steps, what should the strange young girl do but jump out 
of her coach and follow the people until she came to the 
top, and with terror found herself in the presence of the 
dead! Such was her first introduction into her future hus- 
band's house. " A right bad sign/' and so it had proved; 
for it was but a few years ere she was herself laid out upon 
the same spot, looking like a beautiful wax figure with her 
little dead angel in her arms, and although it was mid- 



162 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIE8. 

winter, she had been literally covered with the rarest, love- 
liest flowers; and the white silk of her shroud had fallen 
over the sides of the coffin and covered the floor for yards 
on either side. The people told of the sight to this day. 
Since then many a still face on this spot had lain unmoved, 
while the last whispered estimates of their characters were 
being passed upon them; fathers and sons, mothers and 
daughters, all had rested at this station, and alternately 
with aged, weary old women the forms of young men had 
lain here, cut off untimely in the bloom of youth. But 
such a corpse as this last deceased Lambert this hall had 
never yet sheltered. Little old women who had wearily 
climbed up the steps along with the stream of other sight- 
seers could right knowingly say this; during the whole of 
their long lives they had never one single time missed the 
sight when a corpse was laid out in the Lambert house. 
And they were right in their assertion ; there lay this splen- 
didly formed gigantic man, as though surely he must and 
would suddenly spring up in amazement at his singular 
couch, shake off the .flowers, shake off the languor of sleep, 
and frown upon the curious with his fiery eyes! 

And others were right, too, viz., those men whispering 
together when they pronounced the last strong pillars of 
the old house broken by his fall. What was to be done now? 
That ghost of a man, with his long, lank figure, his thin 
neck incased in a stiff collar, and his shriveled-up fingers 
rubbing against one another as though in a perpetual chill 
as he glided to and fro, was so wretched a spectacle com- 
pared with the mighty dead that one could not possibly 
compute results with such an heir. 

It had been apprehended that the shock of so terrible a 
catastrophe coming so suddenly would be fatal to him like- 
wise; but he had not been really much shocked; he had 
seemed far more astonished and bewildered, going about 
the first day as if in a dream. Afterward the coolness of 
his disposition to the clerks in the counting-room had be- 
come more frigid than ever, and familiar as people were 
with his characteristics, nobody was surprised that already 
on the second day he had tried how it felt to occupy the 
empty seat at the desk of the departed. 

The solemnities of the funeral were over. The greatest 
part of those assembled had withdrawn, only here and there 
stragglers tarried who could not see enough of this " last 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 163 

time " in its pomp and parade. The most prominent par- 
takers in the act of consecration, the priest, the ladies from 
Prince's Court, the acting representative of the duke, and 
the most intimate friends of the family, still tarried in the 
large parlor where the relations of the deceased had collect- 
ed. The daughter of the house was the only one missing. 
She had retired from view into the middle window, which 
was heavily draped in black. Behind the ample folds of 
its rich curtains she was entirely concealed. As though 
wounded she had fled to this dark corner. Must it be, this 
ceremonial, this cruel exhibition of the dead and painful 
parade of the survivors? Up here it seemed to her as if 
she longed to be allowed in unbroken quiet to listen for the 
last vibrations of this human instrument, whose chord had 
been so suddenly snapped in twain; surely the freed spirit, 
ere winging its flight to brighter mansions, must fold its 
wings and linger lovingly near those it loved in its former 
earthly home. The spot where these precious mortal re- 
mains lay, how sacred f On the contrary, all day long the 
upholsterer had been knocking and hammering while lit- 
ters full of evergreens had been lugged un wearily up the 
stairs. And must it be that a throng of strange faces 
should crowd around the coffin while the minister spoke 
heart-rending words of farewell? But the more people the 
greater honor done the family! With every new carriage 
that drove up to the door the graceful form of her grand- 
mamma had fairly swelled with pride. She it was who was 
doing the honors. 

" It is well with him I" had been said in every varying 
form of expression, but none of these eloquent talkers 
knew that in his very last hours, the deceased had felt 
pressed to perform some mysterious duty, which must now, 
forever, be left undone. 

He had had no foreboding that he was riding to meet 
death when he left home that morning; but at the factory 
he had been the most composed of all the sufferers from the 
devastations of the storm. He had everywhere inspected 
the mischief done, and given orders for repair; then he had 
ridden off in the direction of home, and there he had met 
his fate. Feeling an attack of vertigo coming on, he had 
gotten down from his horse, and had found strength enough 
to tie the fiery animal fast, and stretch himself out upon 
the soft green moss, as upon a friendly bed. But who 



164 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

could know what a pang had been experienced when 
death's approach had been so suddenly realized, calm as 
now looked the cold, smooth brow? Torn away without 
having accomplished " what must and should be put an 
end to." 

The last of the people present in the hall had gone, and 
it had grown so solemnly still that the sputtering of the 
wax candles could be plainly heard above the low murmur- 
ing of voices in the parlor. Then came the painter May, 
out of the deep, dark background of the hall. He must 
have been standing there during the whole continuance of 
the ceremony. The old man was not alone, but accom- 
panied by his grandson, who walked at his side, and at his 
bidding, went straight up to the raised, black -draped plat- 
form, where the coffin stood. The little fellow was about 
setting his foot upon the first step, when Eeynold, like a 
madman, darted out of the parlor. 

" You can not go up there, child!" he gasped, his voice 
thrilling with suppressed passion, as he pulled the boy back 
by his arm. 

" Allow my grandchild to kiss the hand which " 

The old man got no further, modestly though he had 
presented his petition. 

" It is not suitable, May. You should have sense enough 
to know that of yourself," interrupted the young man, 
rudely rebuffing him. " What would be done, if all our 
workmen should choose to put up such a petition? And 
you will admit that your grandson has not a tittle more of 
right to ask such a favor than the children of the rest of 
our men." 

; 'No, Mr. Lambert; that I can not admit/' answered 
the old man, quickly. 

The blood had rushed to his face. 

" The councilor of commerce was " 

" Bless me! yes," allowed Reynold, with an impatient 
shrug of his shoulders; " certainly, papa was often conde- 
scending to an amazing degree, but, thinking as he did, at 
bottom, it is not to be by any means assumed that he 
would have allowed the lad such near access in the pres- 
ence of noble friends." He pointed back at the parlor. 
" I must on that account, too, repel him. Be off now!" 
He again pushed the child by the shoulders, and pointed 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 165 

him to the door. " There is no use in your kissing his 
hand." 

Margaret indignantly parted the black curtains, and 
stepped out of her hiding-place. But, at the same minute, 
Herbert, too, came out of the parlor with hasty step; he 
had been standing near the door. 

Without saying a word, he took the boy by the hand and 
led him past Reynold up the steps. 

" Bather on the mouth!" said the boy, turning his pale 
little face away from the wax-white hand, imbedded in 
flowers, whispering to his guide, in his short, concise way. 
" He has kissed me many a time, in the door- way, you 
know, when we were quite alone." 

The young statesman hesitated a moment, but then he 
took the boy upon his arm and lifted him over the coffin. 
And then the child bent his beautiful head low down to 
the " still man," so that his brown curls swept the cold 
forehead, and kissed him on his bearded lips. 

A gleam of light, as it were, crossed the tear-stained 
countenance of the young girl, as she stood holding still 
apart the curtains, as she had grasped them when she 
made that energetic step forward. And she cast a grate- 
ful glance at him who had made this grave, earnest pro- 
test against any lack of love being displayed on this hal- 
lowed ground. 

Meanwhile the company in the parlor had broken up, 
and all moved noiselessly toward the hall. 

" Dear me, how touching!" gasped the Baroness Tau- 
beneck, while Herbert descended the steps, and softly let 
the child out of his arms. 

" But how is this? tell me," said she, turning to Mrs. 
Counsellor. " I can not, for the life of me, recollect hear- 
ing of the existence of so youthful a member of the fam- 
ily!" 

" You are quite correct, my lady. My sister and I are 
the only survivors," broke in Reynold, deeply vexed and 
irritated as he was. " That tender kiss was only out of 
gratitude for favors done; otherwise that youngster has 
absolutely nothing to do with our family. He belongs to 
that man yonder." 

At these words, he pointed to the old painter, who si- 
lently grasped the child's hand, and, with a grateful bow 
to Herbert, left the hall. And with him departed, seem- 



166 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ingly, all power to speak, so complete and embarrassed a 
silence ensued. Discussion raised so awkwardly, in a loud 
tone, by the side of the coffin, seemed to have stirred up 
painful feelings in every breast. Not a word more was 
dropped. With silent greetings the group scattered, and 
immediately afterward their carriages drove away in all 
directions. 

"Alas! that you, too, Baldwin, should be called hence 
so early!" murmured the aged councilor, in bitter lament. 
" God pity the poor people over whom that heartless fel- 
low has power to use his rod I" 

The old gentleman had stayed behind in the front hall, 
alone with his granddaughter, while the rest attended their 
departing friends. 

" Come, Gretchen, bear up, my dear, like a good, brave 
girl!" exhorted he, while he stroked the curly hair of the 
weeping girl who knelt on the top step, tasting the bitter- 
ness of a last leave-taking. She kissed the cold hand; she 
felt as if she could not bear to wipe off the kiss of that in- 
nocent child; then she arose, and, holding her grand- 
father's hand, went into the adjoining chamber. 

" Well, my dear Gretchen, the worst is over!" said he, 
after they had gotten inside the door. " And now take 
my advice, and return to Berlin for a few weeks. There 
you can recover your equilibrium better than here, and the 
poor, tortured brain will have a chance to recruit. But do 
not forget your old grandfather. It will be lonesome 
enough in our dear Millbrook, for he comes no more!" 
The old gentleman was deeply moved. " He was a good 
son to me, my child, although the live-long time his true 
inner nature has been, to me, a book with seven seals." 

Thereupon he went out and closed the door behind him, 
while Margaret took refuge in the most remote chamber, 
the red parlor. She knew that her beloved parent, al- 
though widely esteemed as a rich and honorable citizen^ 
had no longer any place upon earth, save for the mortal 
part of him, a few feet of earth, pent up in cold stone, out- 
side the town wall. 

Yes; by this time to-morrow all would be over, and 
she, too, an orphan, far from her father's home! This 
very evening, by the last train, Uncle Theobald had come 
from Berlin to the interment^ and to-morrow at noon he 
would leave again, and she with him. 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 167 

She walked up and down in the dimly lighted chamber, 
from whose wide, high walls each of her steps was echoed 
distinctly back. The rooms cleared out on the first floor 
had only been refurnished with what was positively neces- 
sary carpets" were lacking, and all the pictures belonging 
there were still standing in the passage of the side-wing. 
A covering of crape was thrown all over the faded tapes- 
try; there had hung the portrait of the lady with the ru- 
bies, that beautiful, beloved being, whose poor soul had 
been left to wander about in this old merchant's home, foi 
a hundred long years, according to cruel superstition, until 
the storm had rushed in and taken her up upon its wings. 
Oh! that stormy night! Then had the orphan looked into 
his father's eye for the last time! 

" Till to-morrow, then, my child!" he had said. 

Those were the last words she was ever to hear from his 
lips; that "morrow" would never come, never! She 
pressed her forehead between her hands, and ran from wall 
to wall. 

Herbert, meanwhile, had missed his niece, and traversed 
the whole suite of apartments, with searching glances. He 
had on his overcoat, and held his hat in his hand. 

Margaret stood still when he appeared on the threshold, 
and her hands sunk slowly down from her temples. 

" Have they left you so, all by yourself, Margaret?" 
asked he, in tones of heartfelt compassion, such as she had 
heard him use long years ago, mostly to the sick child Key- 
nold. He came in, threw down his hat, and caught hold 
of the young girl's hands. " How cold and rigid you are! 
This bare, gloomy room is no place at all for you. Come, 
go with me," he implored, softly, and raised his arm to 
lay it supportingly around her waist; but she drew back, 
and retreated a few steps from him. 

" My eyes smart," said she, quickly, upon leaving their 
dark corner. " The subdued light does them good, after 
that cruel glare in the hall. Yes, it is bare here, but quiet, 
mercifully quiet; a real balm for a wounded spirit, after so 
many wide phrases of empty comfort. " 

" There was many a well-meant speech among them," 
said he, soothingly. " I understand that the streaming to- 
gether of people to-day, and the ostentation dispfc^ed have 
been painful to your feelings. But you must not forget 
that our dear departed always attached importance to pub- 



168 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

lie demonstrations of the sort. A grand funeral like that 
was quite in accordance with his sentiments. Let that 
console you, Margaret." 

He lingered a moment as though awaiting an answer 
from her lips; but she was silent, and he again picked up 
his hat. " I am going to the station to fetch Uncle Theo- 
bald. He will know better than any of us how to unlock 
your pent-up grief, and so I am glad that he is coming. 
But must you go back with him to Berlin, as father said 
just now, you meant to do?" 

" Yes, I must be gone!" answered she, with repressed 
feeling. " I did not realize, myself, how well off I was. 
We take happiness just as we do the free air we breathe, 
unconsciously, as if it was ours of right. Now, for the 
first time, a great misfortune comes to me, and I am not 
prepared for it, but stand resistless before it. It has a ter- 
rible power over me !" Involuntarily she had drawn nearer 
to him, and he could see how grief had seamed her brow. 
" It is dreadful to have to go over and over again the same 
course of thought; and yet I have not the strength to shake 
it off. Yes; I am provoked at those who break the circle 
from the outside. It must be so here, and therefore I 
must be gone. Uncle has work for me, hard work, by 
which I shall be lifted up. He is bringing out a new cata- 
logue." 

" And people there sympathize more with you " 

" What! Sympathize more with me than grandpapa 
and Aunt Sophie? No!" she interposed, shaking her 
head at him. " I am too much like them in temperament 
and character for others to come in between us." 

" Those two are not the only kindred you have here, 
Margaret. " 

She was silent. 

" Ah, the poor mutes! In Berlin, people can afford to 
take things easily," said he, with a bitter smile. " Noble- 
men from Pomerania or Mecklenburg, or anywhere else, 
can tranquilly put their swords up in their scabbards " 
He broke off, and reddened beneath her indignant glance. 
"Pardon," said he, quickly; "1 should not have done 
that not at this dark hour." 

" Yes; in these hours of misfortune it is cruel to remind 
me of a perpetually smiling face!" assented she, almost 
passionately. " For the first time, I feel how detestable 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 169 

such a well-fed, rosy, namby-pamby man can be, when one 
is melancholy. One feels like a very statue of woe, and 
there they rise up at your side, blooming and tranquil, 
with, ' What is that to me?' written on every feature. 
The young lady from Prince's Court stood by me just that 
way to-day, proud and fresh and cool to the very core; her 
oppressive perfume almost stifled me, and the incessant 
rustling of her long train tried my nerves to an extent that 
was unbearable. I could have pushed her away with my 
own hand " 

" Margaret!" interrupted he. 

With a singular look, he seized her hand; but she freed 
herself. 

" Do not trouble yourself, uncle," said she, harshly. 
" A little bit of good manners is still left to me, I trust. 
And when I come back " 

" After another five years, Margaret!" 
He cut short her speech, and looked intently into her 
face. 

" No. Grandpapa wishes my speedy return. In the 
beginning of December I'll come back." 

Your word for it, Margaret." 

He spoke eagerly, and again held out to her his right 
hand. 

" What interest can you have in my coming?" asked 
she, shrugging her shoulders with a shy, timid glance up- 
ward of her weeping eyes; nevertheless, for a moment, she 
laid her cold finger-tips in his hand. 

The carriage that was to convey Mr. Herbert Marshall 
to the depot had long since driven up, and now appeared 
his mamma in the great parlor, and she came along by 
that suite of apartments. 

She looked small, like a child, in her plain mourning- 
garb, and the unrelieved black of her crape cap made her 
delicate, withered little face look almost mummyish. Be- 
sides the eminently proper look of solemnity upon her 
countenance that befitted a house of mourning, her features 
at this instant expressed something of indignant surprise. 

" How is this, Herbert, that I find you here?" asked 
she, pausing on the threshold. " You took such abrupt 
leave of our sympathizing friends that I could only find 
excuse for it in the necessity for you to be promptly at the 
station. The carriage has been waiting before the dooi 



170 THE LADY WITH THE KTTBIES. 

for a long time, while here you are dilly-dallying with our 
little one, who will hardly heed your attempts at consola- 
tion. I know how Gretchen is. You will get there too 
late, dear son." 

An indefinable, faint smile hovered about the "dear 
son's " lips; but he dutifully picked up his hat, and silent- 
ly went out, while Mrs. Counsellor drew her granddaugh- 
ter's arm within hers, in order to lead her away. 

Grandmamma's upstairs drawing-room was comfortably 
warm, and the tea-kettle was singing as the old lady said, 
in a mournfully subdued tone: 

" Uncle Theobald will be sure to come in very much 
chilled, and need a cup of good hot tea. What a pity it 
was that her uncle had not been present at to-day's cere- 
monial. Such an illustrious assemblage the Lambert house 
had never seen before. Respectable names enough there 
had always been, but never before any of the high nobility; 
no, never! Had it not been a most glorious conclusion to 
a proud man's life? A conclusion over which the angels 
in Heaven must rejoice!" 



CHAPTER XV. 

WINTER had come, winter in the regular Thuringian 
fashion, the old woman in the sky having shaken out her 
feathers so bountifully over mountains and valleys, until 
nothing was visible of the village houses, save the lower 
ridges of their roofs, peeping out from their pure white 
mantles. 

The little city at the gate of the Thuringian forest had 
her honest share, too, in this warm covering of snow. 

Smooth and bright she lay, with her loads of snow crys- 
tals ever fashioning themselves into new molds; all the 
ill-deeds of that October storm, the wofully patched walls, 
roofs, and towers, even the newly built-up tile-roof of the 
warehouse in the Lambert yard vanished beneath that 
monotonous white. 

And out in front of the gilded iron trellised gate of the 
stone vault, whose trap-doors had closed eight weeks ago 
upon the latest deceased Lambert, was the snow heaped up 
like an alabaster wall, inscribed with an epitaph that ran 
somewhat so, to the wise who could decipher it' 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 171 

" Keep away! "What I hold, has no more to do with 
you outsiders!" 

Solitary sleepers! One after the other had they entered 
here, each one of the enterprising old merchants, having 
thought, as they took their forced leave of their beloved 
firm: 

" It can not go on without me." 

But it had gone on ; the carrying on of the business had 
always closed smoothly over the supposed irreparable void, 
and the books had shown no perceptible change in their 
balance.- 

This last change, too, had been effected with a like noise- 



Reynold, indeed, was still a minor, but he had already 
completed his eighteenth year, and would soon be of age, 
an empty form, the execution of which was by no means 
imperative. The young merchant, with the cool calcula- 
tion of a gray beard, after the lapse of a few days, already 
held the reins tightly in his grasp, and sat firm in his sad- 
dle; that everybody must allow. The first bookkeeper and 
the agent who were temporarily intrusted with the guidance 
of affairs, sunk into nullity by his side, and only seldom 
used their right of protest in view of the brief duration of 
their office, and the irritability of the heir. But the others, 
the clerks in the counting-room and the factory employes, 
bent timidly over their work, before that nervous, tall man, 
loose-strung in gait and limbs, but with eyes full of deter- 
mined, inexorable hardness. The councilor of commerce 
had been likewise stern, and had seldom bestowed a friend- 
ly word upon his subordinates; but they had never ap- 
pealed to his justice in vain; this fact, and his generosity 
as regarded the wages of his workmen, had drawn all hearts 
to him, in spite of his haughtiness. " Live and let live " 
had been his principle of action. 

Already his youthful successor had criticised this course 
unmercifully. 

" There shall be an end put to all that sort of thing! 
My father has left too much money slip through his fingers; 
he kept house like a gentleman, he has never been a mer- 
chant!" said he, preparing to break up completely the old 
course of things. Then with mushroom-like rapidity much 
grew different. 

Margaret was here again; had been since day before ye&- 



172 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

terday evening. Aunt Sophie had known the hour of her 
arrival, and come to the station to meet her in her carriage ; 
and Mrs. Counsellor had condescended to ride with her that 
she might take the orphaned girl under her grandmotherly 
wing. But the old lady had been not a little surprised to 
see her own son get out of the coupe in attendance upon 
her granddaughter. He had been sent as envoy from the 
Diet to the capitol several weeks ago, and was expected 
back in a few days. " A singular accident/' he had smil- 
ingly said, had led him to the nearest railroad station, 
where lie had esteemed himself most fortunate in meeting 
Margaret on her way home, and being able to make him- 
self useful to her during a long detention at the depot. 
Mrs. Counsellor had shaken her head disapprovingly at this 
" unprofitable running to and fro in the cold." At all 
events, "that singular accident" had proved auspicious, 
inasmuch as it had brought him home a little earlier; but 
steam did make it entirely too easy for men to yield to any 
whim that took possession of them. 

And early on the morning of the next day he had driven 
up before the door in a sleigh and would take no denial 
but that Margaret must jump in and go with him. He 
had a communication to make to his father concerning his 
rented property, he had said, and it would be her best 
chance to pay her respects to her grandfather. Then they 
had fairly flown over the wide, white plains. The sky had 
been a compact mass of snow-clouds, and icy gusts of wind 
had whistled around their ears and torn her veil off her 
face. Holding the reins in one hand he had as swiftly as 
possible captured the fluttering gauze, slipping his arm out 
of his ample fur wrap and cast the freed portion of it 
around the young girl's shivering frame. 

" Let it be," he had said calmly, only drawing the fur 
more closely around her in consequence of her struggling 
resistance. " Daughters and nieces may be waited upon 
by a papa or old uncle without derogating in the least from 
their maidenly dignity." 

And with a shy glance across to Prince's Court she had 
given it as her opinion that it was not impossible but that 
such mummery might be seen from there. 

" Well, and what then? Would there be any harm 
done?" he had answered, again directing toward her a 
smiling glance. " The ladies there will know that the mis- 



THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 173 

chievous piece beside me is nobody else but my own little 
niece." 

Yes, indeed; the fair Heloise was so sure of her victory 
that she could not possibly entertain a doubtful thought. 

Toward evening he had again returned to the capitol in 
order to attend a last session of the assembly. Yesterday 
so many incidents had been crowded together that Margaret 
had been able to collect her faculties in some measure only 
to-day. 

It was Sunday. Aunt Sophie had gone to church, and 
the servants, Barbara excepted, had also gone to hear 
preaching. 

Sunday quiet, then, reigned in the house, which allowed 
the newly arrived daughter of the family to reflect upon 
the impressions which she had received upon her return. 

She stood in the bay-window, and with clouded brow 
looked down upon the market-place, glittering as was its 
snowy surface flooded with morning sunshine. It did 
seem, though, as if winter cold was not confined to out-of- 
doors; the atmosphere within-doors was as chill and frosty 
as though the walls were hung with invisible icicles. In 
former times, too, there had often come days when a spirit 
of melancholy had pervaded the dear old home, when the 
master's sadness had exercised a depressing influence upon 
the spirits of the entire household. But that had merely 
been the pale reflection of his mood, which, moreover, he 
had generally buried in the solitude of his own chamber. 
How had it changed now? 

Her father's successor sat even now over yonder at his 
deck, counting over his dear gains; but the counting-house 
was no longer the sole theater for his activity. He was, as 
it were, everywhere. Like a shadow the lean, lank shape 
wandered about the house, from garret to cellar, frighten- 
ing the people at their tasks by his sudden noiseless appari- 
tion. Barbara lamented that he was ever at her heels like 
a policeman ; he would call the market-women to his count- 
ing-room window and ask how much butter and how many 
eggs they had left in the kitchen, and then he would come 
over himself and scold at the " outrageous waste;" he 
would also jerk off sticks of wood, already on the fire, and 
had the huge kitchen lamp exchanged for a tiny one that 
nickered like a little spark lost in that great, immense 



174 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

kitchen, and would surely be enough to blind the old eyea 
of the faithful Barbara. 

" Make money! save money!" That was the motto 
nowadays; and the young principal, rubbing together his 
cold, bloodless hands, asseverated at every opportunity that 
the world would soon again have just reason to call the 
Lamberts the Thuringian Fugger under the last two 
chiefs their fame for wealth had gone completely under a 
cloud. 

So far not a word of complaint had passed Aunt Sophie's 
lips; but she had grown quite pale, its usual bright anima- 
tion had entirely left her dear good face, and this morning 
at breakfast she had said that next spring she would build 
a couple of rooms with a kitchen annexed, because, to live 
in the country where she could commune with nature had 
ever been her secretly cherished desire. 

Now she was just crossing the market-place. Church 
was out. In crowds worshipers streamed down the narrow 
street which led from the church to the " gallery," that 
stately colonnade running along the east side of the market- 
square. There waved plumes and veils, while velvets and 
silks trailed over the flagstones. Eich and poor, old and 
young walked side by side, so certain and sure of life, 
when, perhaps, next Sunday many a one had gone away 
never more to tread that path. Who hears the roaring of 
time's waters above his head? Just as securely had once 
trod that market-square the gorgeously arrayed Mistress 
Judith and the beautiful Dora as did Aunt Sophie now, in 
her new fur mantle. The chorister boys, too, came along 
chanting their choral songs. Margaret drew her fur jacket 
closely about her, and went out to welcome her aunt home, 
and at the same instant that she opened the door the 
youthful choristers outside sung together most expressively 
that glorious psalm, " The heavens proclaim the honor of 
the Most High." 

" That is something quite extra, got up for me to suit 
Sunday other days they only sing chorals/' said Aunt 
Sophie, as she entered and shook the snow off her shoes. 
But Margaret hardly heard her speak. She stood, listen- 
ing breathlessly to the high soprano, that, seraphim-like, 
floated pure and clear above all the other voices. 

"Isn't it sweet? That'* little Max from the wart- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. Y'6 

house," said her aunt. " The little fellow has to sing for 
his daily bread these days." 

Margaret crossed the threshold of the half -open door and 
locked out There he stood, a black cap crowning his 
curls, his blooming cheeks a brighter crimson than ever 
from contact with the keen winter air, and the breath as it 
left his warm young chest visibly changed to steam in the 
frosty atmosphere. 

As soon as the last note ceased Margaret beckoned to 
him, and he came straight across, bowing to the young lad j 
like a little gentleman. 

"Is it with the consent of your grandparents that you 
sing in front of people's doors this cold day?" said she in 
an almost angry tone, at the same time catching told of 
the boy's hand and drawing him within the door- way. 

" You might know that, Miss Lambert," answered lie, 
freeing himself and as if hurt, " grandmamma has given 
me leave, and grandpapa agrees to it too. It is not always 
so cold; and besides that's nothing the fresh air does me 
good." 

" And how comes it that you have joined the choristers?" 

" Why, don't you know that we young ones earn a great 
deal of money?" He cast a hasty glance behind, finding 
that the last little straggler was about disappearing. " Let 
me go!" urged he in distress. " The prefect will quarrel." 
He forcibly withdrew his cold little hand from the young 
lady's grasp and was gone. 

" Have things changed a great deal at the warehouse 
too?" asked Margaret as it were with bated breath. 

"Yes, indeed, a great deal, my dear Gretchen," an- 
swered Reynold in his aunt's stead. He stood at his open 
counting-room window. " And I'll let you hear directly 
how they have changed. Only, in the first place, have the 
friendliness to close the door a horribly cold draught is 
blowing in. The neighbors will be greatly edified to see 
Miss Lambert imitating the sainted Dame Cotta at 
Eisenach, and calling the chorister into the house. What 
a pity that you did not have a bowlful of soup in your hand, 
too! That would have been still more touching." 

Aunt Sophie closed the door and moved away silenfly. 

" My aunt is always making faces now, as if she had 
swallowed vinegar," said Reynold, shrugging his shoulders. 
" The sharp, new broom with which the house is being 



176 THE LADT WITH THE KUBIES. 

swept does not please her; of course not. It is natural 
the old thing should rebel when fresh air is forced into all 
.her hiding-places; but I don't care, and still less shall I 
indulge my aunt in letting that wretched old sponge, May, 
live upon us any longer. The old fellow was dismissed 
from my employ five weeks ago, and at New Year the 
warehouse is to be vacated. There! now you know, 
(<retchen, why the youngster sings at people's doors. 
Other children must do the same; no pearls from the crown 
are going to drop into their laps; and I do not see into it 
why yon prince from the warehouse is any too good for it." 
He shut to the window, and without a word of reply 
Margaret retured to her own room. There she wrapped 
herself up in a shawl, slipped a little roll of money into her 
pocket, and straightway crossed the yard to the warehouse. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE door of the old house fell to heavily behind the 
young lady, and for a moment she stood motionless at the 
foot of the steps. She had come down these same steps 
that dreadful day to run to Millbrook and ascertain the 
hideous reality that she was an orphan. If he only knew 
how that boy was carrying on, minor as he was! How 
pitilessly he was getting rid of everything that did not tally 
with his calculations! The deceased had taken pleasure in 
little Max she had often to think of Saul and David; the 
moody, melancholy man had not been able to withdraw 
himself from the enchantment exercised upon everybody by 
that bright and beautiful boy. She remembered with 
what a softened voice he had addressed the boy, how he had 
assured his father-in-law that one day he would take him 
into his counting-room. And then that time in the midst 
of the raging storm had he not said at the window that the 
boy was not meant to amuse others? And still here was 
the boy singing for money in the cutting cold of winter! 
She went up the Avarehouse steps. The planks under her 
feet were white as snow, and a delicate aroma of junipe r 
was perceptible; the genuine Sunday perfume of a Thu- 
rmgian home! 

No " Come in" followed her gentle tap, and her en 
traioe was not immediately observed, although the watch 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. I?? 

ful Philine barked in the kitchen. In one of the deep 
window-seats sat Mrs. May, knitting away on a gay-colored 
woolen jacket, while in the other stood her husband's work- 
table; he sat bending low over his work. Not until the 
young lady had spoken in a clear, kindly tone did the two 
old people look up and rise from their seats. 

Margaret felt suddenly embarrassed when she met the 
astonished, constrained looks of the pair. Her warm im- 
pulses had driven her here; but she came from the house 
where dwelt their implacable enemy who had taken the 
bread out of their mouths and thrust them forth into 
. wretchedness and want. Could they help feeling bitter- 
ness and distrust where any one was concerned coming 
thence? 

The old painter came to her relief. He cordially offered 
her his hand and led her to the sofa. There she sat now, 
in the very corner where, ten years before, as a pursued, 
fever-stricken little child, she had been tenderly cherished 
and nursed. That evening came vividly back in memory 
with all its incidents, and she did not comprehend how her 
papa could have persisted to the end in his haughty de- 
meanor toward the inmates of the warehouse after such 
proofs as they had then given of kindness and readiness to 
do a neighborly action. And how badly off were these good 
people now! 

Poverty, however, was not visible as yet. The room 
was comfortably warm. A large, warm carpet covered the 
floor; neither furniture nor window-curtains looked shabby 
nor worn out; it was evident that during all these years 
money and care had been expended in keeping all pertain- 
ing to their home in good order. In the middle of the 
room stood the lunch-table set. The freshly laid table- 
cloth shone like satin, the napkins were in nice rings, and 
beside the hand -painted porcelain plates lay silver spoons. 

" I have disturbed you in your work," said Margaret, 
apologetically, while Mrs. May took a place beside her on 
the sofa, and her husband occupied the nearest chair. 

" It was no work, only a pastime," replied the old 
painter. " I have no longer a regular engagement, and 
am just painting at a landscape begun years ago. It goes 
slowly indeed. I am perfectly blind in one eye, and the 
other one is tolerable weak, so that I can never work unless 
in tho bright hours about the middle of the day." 



178 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

" They have taken your regular work from you, then?" 
asked Margaret, moving, without circumlocution, to her 
point. 

" Yes, my husband has been dismissed," assented Mrs. 
May, bitterly. " Dismissed like a day-laborer, because, aa 
a conscientious artist, he would not hand in rough, coarse 
work like those young smearers ' 

" Nannie!" interposed he in admonitory tone. 

" Yes, dear Ernest, if I do not speak out who else will?" 
returned she harshly, and yet with a melancholy smile 
upon her emaciated features. " Am I in my old days to 
cease to be what I have been all my life long, the spokes- 
man of my entirely too modest good man?" 

He shook his gray head. 

" But we shall not be unjust, dear wife/' said he, mild- 
ly. ' ' Assuredly in the last two years I have not earned 
fully the salary allotted me. I said so, too, and begged to 
be paid by the piece, but the young master would not hear 
of such a thing. "Well, the right to manage rests with Mr. 
Reynold, although he has not been declared of age yet; and 
then there is the will to be opened. To this will many of 
the old workmen out at Millbrook are looking with hope, 
with whom matters stand as they do with me." 

Margaret knew from Aunt Sophie that a will of her 
Bather's was in existence, which was to be opened very 
shortly; but her aunt had only spoken of it casually, with- 
out laying particular stress upon it. This the young lady 
said in response to a singularly searching glance from the 
old man. She had attached little weight to this circum- 
stance, still less had the thought occurred to her that the 
last testament of the deceased might decidedly curb Key- 
nold' s innovations. 

"Is it possible," she cried with animation, " that this 
will may change a great deal " 

" It must and will change a great deal," fell from Mrs. 
May, positively, with a peculiarly hard intonation. 

Margaret hushed for a moment, looking with surprise 
into the old lady's still beautiful blue eyes, for they sparkled 
with a sort of mild satisfaction. " Then," she added em- 
phatically, with strong reproach in her manner, " why this 
cruelty of allowing that child to sing for his living in the 
streets." 

Mrs. May started and sprung to her feet. She was lame- 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 179 

and could move but with difficulty; and yet at this moment 
she seemed to be insensible to pain or weakness. " Cruel? 
We? Toward our child, our idol, our all?" cried she, 
beside herself. 

The old man soothingly caught her hand. " Coiue, 
darling, be composed!" admonished he, smilingly. " We 
two old people have never been cruel, have we, Nannie? 
Not to the smallest creature living, much less to the pride 
of our hearts. Have you heard him sing?" said he, turn- 
ing to Margaret. * 

" Yes, in front of our house; and it grieved me to the 
heart to hear him, it is so cold. I thought his breath must 
freeze, really. He will take his death of cold. " 

Mr. May shook his head. ' ' The little fellow has inured 
himself to hardness. This room is too confined for his 
voice, so that often before we miss him he is up in the gar- 
ret, standing at the window, or out on the open balcony, 
singing out into the open air, though the snow may be fall- 
ing, and the wind blowing a perfect gale. " 

The old painter had stood up as he pronounced these last 
words, thrown his arm tenderly around his wife, and gently 
pressed her back into her corner on the sofa. 

" There, now, that standing is bad for you, my love. 
And you must not distress your old husband by this excite- 
ment, which always does you so much harm. Yes, do you 
know, Miss Lambert, such a woman' i heart as hers is a 
miracle of self-sacrifice and devotion," said he to Margaret, 
again resuming his seat. " One would think it had ex- 
hausted its stores upon the children, but lo! let grandchil- 
dren come, and the grandmother is the same lioness that 
she was in the strength of her youth. " 

Margaret reflected, with bitterness, upon that other old 
lady in the mansion opposite, for whom children and 
grandchildren were only stepping-stones by means of which 
to rise herself. 

" Look! there, close to the stove, lie his slippers, and in 
the warmer stands a mug of hot beer for our little songs- 
ter," continued he. " And when he comes home, he is 
always radiant from joy; for, in his opinion, he has now a 
mighty sphere of action. He is providing for his grand- 
parents." 

The old man smiled, and, at the same time, wiped away 
a tear that dimmed his spectacles. 



180 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" Yes; there came a few fatal, wretched days for us 
after the young gentleman had dismissed me. " Again he 
rose from his chair. " We had paid the tailor and shoe- 
maker their bills for Max, and laid in our supply of coal, 
but a sum of money, upon which we believed we might 
confidently rely was suddenly cut off; then came an even- 
ing when the cash-box was perfectly empty, and we could 
not see our way clear to procuring even soup for the next 
day. I wanted to go out and sell a few of our silver spoons, 
but yon little woman there he designated his wife by a 
tender glance " prevented me. She took piles of knitted 
work from the bureau, which she had done in hours of 
idleness, and hard as walking was for her she went, 
with Max, to some of the stores, and brought back, not 
money only, but many orders for more. Now, sorry old 
fellow that I am, I let myself be supported by the hand 
upon which I once put the betrothal ring, in the firm con- 
viction that the girl of my choice would lead the life of a 
princess by my side. Such, you see, is the vanity of an 
artist's hopes, an artist's life." 

" Ernest!" interrupted Mrs. May, shaking her finger at 
him, "would you really give Miss Lambert the idea that 
I ever dreamed of leading such a Utopian existence as you 
imagined? No, Miss Lambert; he is inventing fables, that 
old picture-maker! I never had the least talent for idling. 
I was always too brisk for that. Stirring about and help- 
ing were ever the elements of my existence, and Max has 
inherited from me the same disposition. t Grandma/ said 
lie, as we were coming home one day, ' to-morrow I am 
going with the chorister boys. The choir-leader has told 
me that he would like to have a little boy in his choir with 
a voice like mine, and those boys get their pockets full of 
money/ " 

" We tried to persuade him out of the notion/* remarked- 
Mr. May; " but he would not give it up; he plead and wept 
and wheedled, until at last my wife yielded and gave her 
consent. " 

" But not for the sake of what money he gained/' inter- 
posed she, protesting almost vehemently. " For God's 
sake, don't think such a thing as that! Those few pen- 
nies lie untouched in the box; they are to be saved up as a 
memento of the time when hard necessity put it into the 
child's thoughts to sing for daily bread." 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 181 

" Nannie/' exhorted the old man, with great earnest- 
ness and emphasis. 

She closed her lips tightly, and with strangely eloquent 
glance gazed through the window opposite her, out into 
the frosty air. A certain thirst for vengeance was appar- 
ent in her every movement. 

" That child has been treated badly enough in yon 
great, proud house since he touched Geiman soil/' said 
she, from between her teeth and with still averted looks. 
" The gravel in the yard was too good for the soles of his 
shoes, and the table under the linden-trees was desecrated 
by his books and his writing. And from the coffin up yon- 
der in the grand hall he had to be driven away, as ' 

She broke off, and covered her eyes with her hand. 

*' My "brother is sick, and therefore a friend to nobody. 
You ought not to judge him so severely; remember that 
you are not the only sufferer from his harshness/' softly 
consoled Margaret. " On the other hand, I know that my 
father had the kindest feelings toward little Max, as indeed 
has everybody in our house. I know that he meant to pro- 
vide for his future, and therefore am I come. It would 
certainly have gone to his heart, as to mine, to see that 
splendid child standing out in front of the door singing in 
the cold, and so let me entreat you, from this day forth, to 
retract your consent from the little chorister, and allow 
me the pleasure " 

Blushing, she put her hand into her pocket. 

" No; no alms!" cried Mrs. May, almost wildly, laying 
her hand on the young lady's arm. " No alms!" repeated 
she, more calmly, when Margaret drew her hand from her 
pocket, empty. " I feel that you mean well. From the 
time you were a little thing, you had a brave, true heart. 
Nobody knows that better than I. You merit no reproach ; 
but allow us the indulgence of this bit of pride namely, 
the satisfaction of having warded off by our own strength 
the blow leveled at us. Look!" she pointed to an im- 
mense hamper in the window recess that was filled with 
pretty fancy-work; *' that is nothing but work which has 
been finished. We need not starve at present, and here- 
after God will help. Max shall not again sing in the streets, 
I promise you sacredly. He will complain, I know, but 
he must give it up." 



182 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Margaret clasped the old lady's right hand in her own, 
and pressed it warmly. 

" I understand you, and shall certainly never again blun- 
der so," said she with a fleeting smile. " But surely you 
will allow me to love the child as I have always done, and 
interest myself in his career." 

" Who knows, young lady circumstances so change 
apparently our firmest persuasions who knows how you 
will think about this four weeks from now?" answered Mrs. 
May, meaningly. 

" No differently from to-day. I'll wager my old head 
on that!" exclaimed her husband, quite enthusiastically. 
" I used to notice little Gretchen in her plays when a bit 
of a child. It took a large measure of sisterly love and 
capability of self-sacrifice to always play horse so patiently 
to a spoiled, sickly brother, letting him pull her about and 
beat her unmercifully. Moreover, I used to see how the 
little thing would run into the kitchen, and, in spite of 
Barbara's grumbling, bear off to the front-door buttered 
bread to give to the beggar-children there. Were 1 to at- 
tempt to enumerate all the traces I discovered of a sound, 
good heart I should never be done; and I am sure that see- 
ing something of the world has not changed an iota that 
fine nature old May discovered so much the very first days 
after her return." 

Margaret had, meanwhile, risen to go. She was flushed 
and full of confusion. 

" Well, then, there was at least one person who looked 
indulgently upon that poor harum-scarum little body," 
said she, smiling. " But, oh! you should only have heard 
the many lectures she received, and been a witness to the 
chastisements besto ved upon her misdemeanors! That was 
a secret, though, pertaining to the opposite house, and could 
not have affected your favorable opinion. Only on this one 
point I agree with you: I have a hard head, which it would 
not be in the power of circumstances to alter easily within 
the space of four weeks. " 

On taking leave, she shook hands with the aged couple, 
and, escorted by them both to the head of the stairs, left 
the warehouse. She went away far more thoughtful than 
when she had come. 

JJow charming the family-life in the old house behind 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES, 183 

her! The more violently blew against them the storms of 
fate, the more closely their hearts were knitted together. 

Involuntarily her glance was directed to the handsome 
upper story of the main building. There, what a different 
spirit prevailed! Grandmamma called it " respectability/' 
" good manners/' " conventionality;" and " abominable 
selfishness," coupled with cringing servility to people of 
" high rank/' that dear old man pronounced it to be who 
preferred to live solitary out in the country, rather than 
breathe the chilly atmosphere in which moved his stylish 
spouse. 

Was it any wonder if Herbert But, no; not even in 
1 her thoughts would she ever more wrong him by attribut- 
ing to him heartlessness! He was good to her; he had even 
twice written to her while she was in Berlin, solicitously, 
as if he had been her guardian; and she had answered his 
letters. Thereupon, he had come to meet her at the last 
station but one, on her return, with the kind-hearted 
thought of making her reappearance in her father's desert- 
ed home a little less gloomy. 

Grandmamma, indeed, had known nothing of this; most 
assuredly she would never have consented to so much con- 
descension and consideration being shown that young thing, 
Gretchen, especially since she had offended her so greatly 
by refusing to become Baroness von Billingen. The old 
lady had written very angrily on the subject, both to her 
sister and Margaret. As to what Herbert thought of this 
disappointed plan, the young girl up to this hour had re- 
mained in the dark. He had made no allusion in his let- 
ters to this delicate subject, while she had been likewise on 
her guard, and not dropped a hint with regard to it. 

With these desultory reflections, she had long since re- 
turned to her own private sitting-room, and again slipped 
the roll of bank-notes into the drawer of her secretary, 
blushing again as she did so. She could not, durst not 
testify her sympathy with little Max in such a form another 
time; that way was closed to her. She felt herself to be 
powerless; only a man could weigh properly the circum- 
stances, and know how aid might effectively be extended 
him. She proposed to herself to talk the matter over with 
Herbert 



184 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 



CHAPTER XVIL 

SINCE then, two days had elapsed. The young states- 
man had not yet returned, and therefore profound quiet 
reigned in the upper story, where usually there was so much 
going up and down stairs, with frequent calls. Margaret 
went up every morning, as in duty bound, to pay her re- 
spects to her grandmother. This was an onerous task, for 
the old lady was still fretting and fuming over her disap- 
pointment. She did not quarrel out loud never; any- 
thing but a vulgar display of passion. Good society is sup- 
plied with surer, if finer, weapons than that; knife-like 
sharpness in look and tone, dagger- and needle-thrusts 
from the tongue. But this mode of attack was doubly ag- 
gravating to her grandchild, and she often had need for all 
her powers of self-mastery to bear it calmly and in silence. 
Dismissed most ungraciously, she again went down the 
steps, with a feeling of relief, in order to tarry for awhile 
in the front hall. To be sure, that vast apartment was 
most inhospitably cold, and her papa's private suite of 
rooms was sealed up; not one of the pleasant places where 
he had once lived and moved, not the smallest object which 
his hand had touched were accessible- to her; she had to be 
satisfied with the spot where she had seen him sleeping 
peacefully for the last time, with a light upon that brow 
which, in life, had often looked so dark. 

However it was, in this place there would come over her 
a sad and yet consolatory sense of communion with his 
spirit. 

Down-stairs everything was being done to obliterate, as 
speedily as possible, the traces of his existence and modes 
of management. 

This morning Margaret had had an encounter on leaving 
the front hall. She still had her foot upon the threshold 
of the door, when she found herself face to face with the 
beautiful Heloise, who was just passing by. A few steps 
in advance of the young lady was the Baroness Taubeneck, 
panting at the turn of the staircase. 

Quite overcome by the exertion of climbing, she had taken 
no notice of the person leavirg the hall, but her daughter, 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 185 

on the contrary, had greeted her very kindly; yes, her eye 
had rested with even an expression of unmistakable sym- 
pathy upon the girlish form, clad in deep mourning. Mar- 
garet herself could not deny that, and yet she had been 
tempted to ignore the polite greeting, and without return- 
ing it, to rush back into the hall which she had left. 

This Heloise, this famous beauty, somehow excited her 
repugnance; but why so? She hardly knew herself. 

Seen close at hand thus, the duke's niece was indeed 
most beautiful. The soft velvet of her peach-bloom com- 
plexion, her glorious hair and large lustrous blue eyes were 
fairly dazzling, and grandpapa was right when he said that, 
compared with her, his grandchild looked like a little 
brown gypsy. Even the phlegmatic repose of her manner 
enhanced the dignity and style of her carriage. 

" What, envious, Gretchen?" had the young girl asked 
herself, as she felt this up-mounting of dislike and aversion 
take possession of her soul. No; it was not envy. She had 
ever delighted in a beautiful face. 

Envy, most decidedly, it was not. Well, but it might be 
the inborn enmity of plebeian blood to the opposers of the 
people. Yes; that was the cause. And when she heard 
grandmamma at the head of the stairs welcoming her 
proud visitors with a perfect shower of compliments and 
thanks, the young girl had clapped her hands over her ears 
and flown down the steps. 

On the pavement in front of the house had drawn up 
the princely sleigh. It was shell-shaped, and furnished 
with costly furs, so that after awhile, when the ladies had 
again taken their seats in it, the fair Heloise, with her 
white veil and waving gold hair, might have been taken 
for a fairy flying away over the snow. Oh, no! On the 
contrary, what an absurd figure must a certain little maid 
have cut the other day in that sleigh, beside Herbert's no- 
ble form, all drawn up and frozen as she had been, actual- 
ly in need of help! 

The whole day through she had been pursued by bitter 
and impertinently obtrusive thoughts, and, moreover, it 
looked sc gloomy in all the rooms! Unweariedly the sky 
shook flakes of snow over the little city, and it was but sel- 
dom that a gust of wind blew aside the falling masses of 
snow, which, like a silver curtain, shut out all outlook upon 
tbe streets and lanes. 



186 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

In spite of the snow-storm, Aunt Sophie had gone oat to 
attend to some arrangements that could not be postponed, 
and Reynold was at work in his counting-room; in fact, he 
never left it nowadays, save when summoned to his meals. 

Margaret was arranging the supper-table. In the stove, 
the wood was naming brightly, throwing a broad, beauti- 
ful streak of light upon the plank floor, through the open- 
ing in the brass door, and upon the sill of the uncurtained 
window bloomed with double sweetness Aunt Sophie's fa- 
vorites, namely, crowds of violets and lilies of the valley. 
Against the panes of glass outside struck thousands of flut- 
tering snow-flakes, only to perish immediately as they 
touched the warmed glass. Yes, the evening should be 
comfortable, just to make up for that hateful day. 

Barbara brought in neatly garnished cold dishes, and 
Margaret lighted the alcohol beneath the tea-kettle, and 
when Reynold sent word that they must fetch him some 
slices of bread and butter, because he did not care to come 
over, then, for the first time, his sister's heart felt right 
light. 

Outside, several carriages rolled past, and it did seem as 
if one stopped before the door. Had Herbert come back? 
Well, they would learn in the morning, certainly not be- 
fore! Margaret continued to lay slices of ham upon Rey- 
nold's buttered bread; she did not look up when a slight 
noise at the door struck upon her ear. Barbara, may be, 
was bringing in something more needed for the table; but 
such a cold whiff of air as now struck upon her cheek did 
not come from the warm kitchen; involuntarily she looked 
up, and there stood Herbert at the door. She gave a vio- 
lent start, and the fork with the ham on it fell from her 
hand. 

He laughed softly, and drew nearer to the table. He 
was still in his fur overcoat, and upon his cap snow-flakes 
were still glittering, showing that he had come in directly 
from out of doors. 

" But such a fright, Margaret!" said he, shaking his 
head. " In spite of your domestic employment, were you 
roaming in sunny Greece, when an uncouth bear dragged 
you back into the rude realities of a Thuringian world? 



Good-evening, though, anyhow!" added he, in cordial 
Thuringian fashion, offering her his 



lis hand; and it did seem 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 18? 

to her as if it must be pleasure that shone so in his eyes 
from under the brim of his fur cap. 

" No, indeed, I was not in Greece," answered she; and 
agitation was still perceptible in the quivering of her voice. 
" In spite of snow and ice I had rather be here at Christmas- 
time. But it is something quite unheard-of to see you entei 
our sitting-room. You must admit that this room has al- 
ways lain aside of your pathway. Earlier, the noise of chil- 
dren may have scared you off, and later " the distressed 
look which had marked her expression ever since her father's 
death gave way momentarily to a roguish smile "later 
the outspoken homeliness of the furniture, and ways of 
doing things down here/' 

He drew a little package out of his coat-pocket and laid 
it on the table. " Here is the sole reason for my appear- 
ance here," said he, likewise smiling. " Wherefore should 
I lug a whole pound of tea (which I was commissioned by 
Aunt Sophie to buy for her in the capital) up two flights of 
stairs?" So saying, he took off his fur cap and shook 
from it the last sparklirg snow-flakes. ' ' As for the rest, 
you are mistaken in your assumption. I find it extremely 
comfortable here; and your tea-table looks anything but 
uninviting/' 

" May I offer you a cup of tea? It is just ready." 

" Certainly. Thanks! It will do me good after my 
cold ride. But then you must let me lay off my furs." 
He endeavored to rid himself of the heavy burden. Invol- 
untarily Margaret raised her arm to lend assistance, as she 
had been accustomed to do with Uncle Theobald, but he 
drew back, and a flash of indignation gleamed from his 
eyes. " Never mind that!" said he, declining her aid 
almost rudely. " Uncle Theobald may need a daughter's 
aid, but not I!" 

Testily, with a last powerful tug. he jerked the coat 
from his shoulder, and threw it upon the nearest chair. 

" There; well I do need help after all. I am longing 
after your hot tea," said he directly afterward, letting his 
elegant figure glide into a sofa corner. His brow was clear 
again, and he stroked his beard, smiling pleasantly the 
while. " But I am hungry, too, dear Miss Housekeeper, 
and fancy particularly just such a sandwich as I saw you 
preparing when I came into the room, so different from 
those which my mother insists upon having made up in thr 



188 THE LADT WITH THE RUBIES. 

kitchen. Some day, when I have a house of my own, I 
shall beg my wife to fix what I have to eat with her own 
hands if she would not have me rise from the table hun- 
gry." 

Margaret handed him his tea, but kept silence, and did 
not look at him. She could but wonder if that haughty 
Heloise would really thus set etiquette aside and butter 
slices of bread for her husband with her own fair little 
hands? And Herbert himself? Was he in very truth so 
domestic in his feelings, grandmamma's son, the man of 
forms, by which he made such an impression in the world ? 

" You keep very still, Margaret/' said he, breaking a 
short silence; " but I discerned a mocking smile quivering 
at the corner of your mouth which spoke plainer than 
words. You were inwardly ridiculing my ideas as to my 
future home, and predicting the disappointment of my 
wishes. Yes, you see I can read your features as plainly 
as in a book; you need not, on that account, turn as red as 
a peony. I know more of the process of your soul than 
you fancy." 

JSTow she looked up as though hurt and indignant. 
"What, uncle! Do you presume to carry your inquisi- 
torial researches as far as to the thoughts?" 

" Yes, my dear niece, that shall I, with your gracious 
permission, and you must deign to suffer it too/' answered 
he, softly laughing. " All opposing thoughts interest me; 
and more still such as the head only reluctantly gives place 
to, against which it struggles as the young horse against 
his chartered master, and which finally conquer gloriously, 
because a mighty impulse backs them/' 

He put his cup to his lips, and at the same time narrowly 
watched the girl's graceful fingers as they nimbly prepared 
the desired sandwich. 

" A peep into this room just now must afford an extraor- 
dinarily pleasing and home-like picture," remarked he, 
after a momentary pause, indicating his meaning by a 
glance at the uncurtained window. " Over yonder," and 
lie nodded his head in the direction of the houses on the 
other side of the market-place, " they might easily take us 
for a young married couple." 

Margaret's face grew very red. " Oh, no, uncle; the 
whole town knows ' 

" That we are uncle and aunt quite correct, my dear 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 189 

niece/'* interposed he with cool sarcasm, again taking up 
his tea-cup. 

Margaret did not contradict him; but she had really 
meant to say, " The whole town knows that you are en- 
gaged." Well, let him think what he chose! He teased her 
in a most outrageous manner, and humor, for which she 
had never given him credit, sparkled in every word he ut- 
tered. He was evidently in high spirits, and at all events 
must have brought cheering prospects from the capital. 
But she herself was in no mood to rejoice with him ; she 
was unspeakably depressed, and yet knew not the reason 
why, and as one engaged in spiritual conflict often uncon- 
sciously catches at the very point of difference only to pro- 
duce a diversion, she said, as she handed him the sandwich 
when finished, " Grandmamma received a visit this mom- 
ing the ladies from Prince's Court were here!" 

He drew himself up with animation, and unmistakable 
suspense was depicted upon his features. " Did you speak 
with them?" 

" No," answered she, coldly. "I only met the young 
lady accidentally on the stair-landing. " You know very 
well that she can not honor me with any of her conversa- 
tion because I have not yet been presented at Prince's 
Court. " 

" Ah, yes; I forgot! You will remove that difficulty, 
I trust, very shortly." 

She was silent. 

" I hope that you will, for my sake, Margaret." 

Now she looked at him; and it was a dark look of dis- 
pleasure that met his gaze. "If I do make that sacrifice, 
and in my deep mourning and sorrow of spirit allow my- 
self to be dragged out to take part in that farce, it will be 
wholly and solely to put an end, once for all, to grand- 
mamma's teasing and tormenting me on the subject," an- 
swered she, tartly. She had dropped into the nearest chair, 
and crossed her hands on the table. 

A hardly perceptible smile played about his mouth. 
" You are forgetting your part as housekeeper," suggested 
he, coldly, pointing to her idle hands. " Hospitality re- 
quires that you keep me company and take a cup of tea 
too." 

" I must wait for Aunt Sophie." 

" Well, as you choose! Your tea is excellent, and is to 



190 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

my taste in spite of everything. But I should just like to 
ask you, for once, what the young lady at Prince's Court 
lias done to you that you are always so so bitter when 
she is mentioned." 

A glowing blush suddenly suffused her cheeks. " She 
to me?" cried she, as though shocked, and caught in an 
evil thought. " Not the least thing has she done to me! 
How could she, since until now I have hardly come into 
her lofty presence?" She shrugged her shoulders. " But 
I feel instinctively that she looks down upon the merchant's 
daughter ' 

" You are mistaken. She is well disposed " 

" Perhaps out of temperament; possibly because she 
does not like to be excited. Her beautiful face " 

" Yes, she is beautiful, incomparably beautiful, one 
might say," he chimed in. " And I should like to know 
if something like secret happiness was not to be read upon 
her features this morning. She got delightful news yester- 
day." 

Ah! that explained his exuberance of spirits this evening; 
this delightful news concerned her and himself together. 
" Do you ask me that?" cried she, with a bitter smile. 
' ' You should know best that court ladies are much too 
well schooled to betray their inner feelings to profane eyes. 
Of secret ' happiness' I could observe nothing; I only ad- 
mired her classic profile, her blooming complexion, her 
beautiful teeth when she smiled graciously, and was almost 
stilled in the violet perfume with which she filled the stair- 
landing; and this excess I could not esteem elegant in the 
aristocrat ; 

" See, there zgam you show the same bitter prejudice as 
before!" 

* "I can not bear her!" suddenly burst from her quite 
vehemently. 

He laughed and stroked his beard as if amused. " Well, 
that was good, earnest German!" said he. " Do you 
know that lately I have been thinking a great deal of the 
little girl who used to drive her grandmother almost to dis- 
traction by her quite too inconvenient candor and love of 
truth. Life in the outer world, now, has changed this 
directness into the most charming and graceful little ways 
of carrying her own point; and I had thought, revolution- 
ized, too. the very core of her individuality. But there it 



THE LADY WKBH THE RUBIES. 19t 

is, pure and untouched! I joy to meet it again, and am 
forcibly reminded of the time when the big school-boy was 
publicly branded as a rascal because he had annexed a 
flower." 

At his very first word she had risen to her feet and gone 
to the stove. Most unnecessarily she thrust one billet of 
wood after another into the brightly glowing flames, whose 
light revealed fully their visibly excited features. She was 
indescribably vexed with herself. What she had said was 
certainly the strict truth; but nevertheless she had shown 
a want of tact that she would be ashamed of the whole of 
her life. 

She remained standing close to the stove, and forced her- 
self to smile. " You will believe me when I say that I am 
no longer so quick to judge," replied she. " Life in the 
world hardens the soul against a too delicate perception. 
In society nowadays there is so much thought stolen; peo- 
ple take of the good name of their neighbors, of their hon- 
orable efforts, of their rectitude of intention, as much as 
can be taken, and often would like best of all to blot this 
whole personality from the scene of action as entirely as 
you effected the disappearance of the rose in your pocket 
that time. This battle for existence, or properly speaking, 
this theft, out of selfishness and envy can be observed to 
best advantage in the house of a man of reputation. I 
have laid much of this to heart, and have certainly bought 
this wisdom at the price of a good share of my riai've way 
of \ooking at things as a child. Consequently, now, right 
before my eyes you might put all the fair Blanche's roses 
into your pocket " 

" They would be safe now from my robber-like hands." 
" Well, then, for aught I care, the whole flower-hed at 
Prince's Court." 

"Oh! that would be too much for the herbarium of my 
memorandum-book, don't you think so, Margaret?" He 
laughed softly to himself, and leaned back still more com- 
fortably in his sofa-corner. " I need not slink in there as 
a thief. The ladies freely share with my mother and my- 
self whatever of fruit and flowers their grounds produce; 
and when you pay your visit you too will be allowed to 
bring away with you a bunch of green-house flowers." 

" Thank you. I take no pleasure in artificial flowers," 
said she, coldly, going to the room door in order to open it, 



192 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Aunt Sophie had come back, and outside was stamping and 
shaking the snow off her shoes and garments. 

She stared when Herbert's tall figure rose from the sofa- 
corner, and when he came forward to welcome her. 

" What, a guest at our tea-table!" exclaimed she, mer- 
rily, while Margaret relieved her of her wrappings. 

" Yes; but a badly treated one, Aunt Sophie," said he. 
" The hostess has finally withdrawn to the stove-corner and 
left me to drink my tea alone." 

Aunt Sophie's eyes twinkled merrily. " Then you have 
'been examining her, as of old, perhaps? Gretchencan not 
bear that, you know. And if, perchance, you have walked 
into Mecklenburg land just to spy : 

" By no means," answered he with sudden gravity and 
visible surprise. " I thought that matter was all done 
with," added he in a questioning tone. 

"Bless me! Not by a great deal; as Margaret every 
day experiences!" answered his aunt, knitting her brow as 
she thought of Mrs. Counsellor's persecutions. 

The young statesman vainly sought Margaret's eyes 
for she looked away. She was on her guard against saying 
one word on this disagreeable topic, which her aunt had so 
incautiously touched upon. But just let him dare to make 
common cause with grandmamma, and urge it upon her 
to revoke her decision. Just let him dare! 

Persistently silent, she stepped behind the tea-urn in 
order to fill Aunt Sophie's cup; but Herbert did not return 
to the table. He put into his aunt's hands the tea he had 
brought with him, and obligingly exchanged a few words 
with her; then he took his furred coat on his arm and held 
out his right hand to Margaret. She laid into it the tips 
of her fingers. 

" No good-;iight?" asked he. " So very angry because 
] accused you to Aunt Sophie?" 

' ' That was your right, uncle. I was not polite. Angry 
I am not; but armed for the conflict!" 

" Against wind-mills, Margaret?" 

He looked smilingly into her flashing eyes, then went 
out. 

"Strange, how that man has altered," said Aunt 
Sophie, secretly smiling, and looking away over her cup 
into the pale girlish face that, turned to the window with 
dispirited looks^ was gazing forth into the snow-storm, 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 103 

" He has always been good and full of politeness to me, I 
can not but admit; and yet he was always like a stranger 
on account of his ceremonious, cool ways. But now I have 
a curious sort of feeling toward him, often, just as if I had 
brought him up, as I have you. He is so cordial, so confi- 
dential; and to think of his taking tea down here this even- 
ing!" 

" I will explain that to you, aunt!" coldly interrupted 
the young girl. " There are hours when one would like to 
embrace the whole world in his arms, and in such a mood 
has he come back from the capital, from Prince's Court. 
As he expressed it himself, he has brought ' most delight- 
ful news ' with him. We may shortly expect, then, the 
final announcement of his betrothal." 

" It may be so," agreed Aunt Sophie, as she quietly fin- 
ished her cup. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

NEXT morning Margaret stood at the open window of 
the drawing-room looking out upon the court-yard. She 
brushed off the high bank of snow that had gathered upon 
the stone sill, and was scattering bread crumbs and grains 
of corn to the hungry birds. Above the broad area of the 
court-yard spread a clear blue frosty sky; not the least lit- 
tle flake had it held back, and if here and there fell a sil- 
very shower, it came from one of the linden boughs grown 
weary of bearing such a heavy burden of snow, and letting 
some of it fall to the ground. It was very cold. Not a 
pigeon ventured out upon the perch in front of its cote, 
and the birds for whom a feeding-place had been cleared, 
preferred to stay hungry in their hiding-places; not the 
least rustling of wings disturbed the morning stillness of 
the court-yard. Penetrated by the cold, Margaret was 
about to close the window, when the stable-door across the 
A^ay was opened, and Herbert rode out upon his beautiful 
chestnut horse. He saluted her directly, and came imme- 
diately underneath the window. 

"Are you going to ride to Millbrook and see grand- 
papa?" asked she quickly, as though holding in her breath. 
To Prince's Court first, though," answered he, smooth- 
ing his elegant new glove. " Perhaps I shall succeed bet- 



194: THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ter than you in reading upon the lady's features what I 
want to learn. What think you of it, Margaret?" 

" I think that you know already, and have no need what- 
ever of consulting any oracle/' said she, stiffly. " But 
whether the lady will stand and talk with you so early in 
the morning is another question. She has been too ten- 
derly reared, I am sure, to have become an early riser." 

" There again you are mistaken. I'll lay a wager that 
at this very instant she is already in her Lady Milford's 
stable seeing to her being cared for. Eiding is her passion. 
You have not seen her on horseback yet?" 

She shook her head, and tossed it back. 

" Well, her riding is superb, and very much admired. 
She looks, indeed, like a Walkure when she comes along on 
her stately horse. As for the rest, this Lady Milford is no 
English full-blood, but is rather a noble Mecklenburg 
mare, beautifully formed and gentle; perhaps you know 
about those horses?" 

" Yes, indeed, uncle. Mr. Von Billingen has two mag- 
nificent carriage horses of that breed." In speaking this 
name she herself defiantly threw down her challenge. He 
might now tread upon that ground, like grandmamma; 
rather that than these never-ending praises of one-she could 
not bear. Armed indeed she was fairly thirsting for battle. 

lie leaned forward and patted his impatient steed upon 
the neck. 

" An elegant coach there was, of course, to match those 
magnificent horses, was there not?" he asked composedly. 

" Certainly; a very handsome one, one that drew atten- 
tion even in Berlin. It rode delightfully, sitting back on 
its silver-gray satin cushions. Mr. Von Billingen often 
took Aunt Eliza and me out riding." 

" A noble, stately driver!'-' 

" Oh, yes! stately, indeed, as I have already told you. 
Tall and well-developed, and pink and white as an apple- 
blossom. Quite the North German type, as, for example, 
the yomig lady at Prince's Court." 

He glanced quickly at her pouting lips, her flushed 
cheeks, and smiled. 

" Come, close that window, Margaret. You will take 
cold," said he. " One tells such things best at a cozy tea- 
table." 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 195 

He bowed and rode away, while she hurriedly closed the 
window. 

Dropping into the nearest chair, she buried her face in 
her clasped arms, which she rested upon the window-sill. 

She could have wept for chagrin and indignation against 
herself; she always came off second best in face of his smil- 
ing tranquillity. 

Toward noon, Herbert came back, and spon afterward 
grandmamma came down-stairs, in order to announce, with 
due ceremony, that the mistress of Prince's Court had re- 
quested a visit from herself and granddaughter that after- 
noon. 

Accordingly, at three o' clock, the sleigh was once more 
speeding across the broad snow-fields. This time grand- 
mamma sat by the young girl, highly erect and full of ex- 
pectancy. She was gorgeously attired in velvet and silk. 

Herbert drove himself. He sat behind the ladies, and 
when he stooped forward, Margaret could feel his breath 
upon her cheek. To-day she had no need for his furs; 
she had as speedily as possible made herself mistress of a 
warm fur-wrap, and it occurred to her that he had scanned 
this new acquisition rather satirically as he handed her into 
the sleigh. 

The little rococo palace seemed to retreat before their 
approach. With its great glittering, sunny panes of glass, 
it rested on the broad, snowy landscape like a piece of 
jewelry on a white satin cushion. Over at Millbrook the 
factory chimneys were in full blast, and these signs of work 
mounted to the skies like huge black columns, and to a 
considerable extent darkened its clear blue; but they did 
not touch the transparent atmosphere over Prince's Court. 
Mrs. Counsellor remarked this to her son with evident 
satisfaction. 

" We happen to have a west wind just now," said he. 
" The north wind does not behave so considerately; it of ten 
carries the traces of smoke into their windows, as the ladies 
complain/' 

" But, dear me, surely precautionary measures are 
taken against that?" exclaimed the old lady, quite wrought 
np. 

" I know of none other than simply blowing out the 
fires when the wind conies from that direction." 



196 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" And then part of the workmen would be idle and have 
nothing to eat," remarked Margaret, bitterly. 

Her grandmother turned around, and looked her full in 
the face. 

" That is a tone! You are prettily prepared for intro- 
duction into a very noble house! I must earnestly beg of 
you not to come forward with any of your liberal common- 
places, such . as I know you entertain ! Liberalism is no 
longer in fashion, thank Heaven! In the circles where I 
have the good fortune to move, it never has found standing- 
ground: and if here and there, once upon a time, one of us 
coquetted with the intoxication of humanity and freedom, 
he is now the more thoroughly cured, and wishes such a 
thing had never been." 

At this moment Herbert let the whip play on the horses' 
backs, and with redoubled swiftness the sleigh glided over 
the smooth course, in order to halt, in hardly a minute 
more, before the front door of Prince's Court. 

" Ah, yes; we lead a wretchedly lonely life here!" said 
the lady of the house, in confirmation of a remark from 
Mrs. Counsellor tending that way, at the same time look- 
ing out upon the snow-bound landscape with a deep sigh. 

^he presentation was over, and the company was seated 
in the parlor. 

In the open fire-places of the adjoining apartment 
crackled and snapped great burning logs of wood, while 
they sat here, warm and comfortable, in the midst of old- 
time pomp and splendor. The furniture of Prince's Court 
had remained the same during all time, whether its occu- 
pant had been a prince of the blood or a prince's widow. 
Splendid furniture, in the Louis Quatorze style, filled its 
rwnis, and the inlaid ornamentation of the woodwork in 
silver, bronze, and tortoise-shell shone and glittered to-day 
as brightly as it had done more than a hundred years ago. 
Nothing seemed to have been renewed for its present in- 
mates, save the cushion-covers and curtains which were 
fresh, but very simple. 

" I have lived in the great world ever since my sixteenth 
year," continued the lady, " and am utterly unfit for a life 
of solitude. In fact, I should be miserable here did I not 
know that deliverance was at hand." 

So saying, she cast a smiling, knowing glance at F*r- 
bert, who nodded his head in assent But his little mother 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 197 

fairly swelled with pride beneath that glance. Enrapt- 
ured, she looked in the direction where sat the beautiful 
lleloise. 

That young lady leaned back in her arm-chair, richly 
clad, and as nonchalant as a reigning princess. She had 
spoken a few friendly words to Margaret hi the beginning, 
and then relapsed into silence. But to-day there was de- 
cidedly more soul in her features, and this enhanced her 
beauty surprisingly. At quite a distance, but in a straight 
line behind her, on the narrow side of the parlor, hung the 
portrait in oils of a lady, a half-length one. She was 
dressed in black velvet, rich golden hair puffed out beneath 
a little hat, decked with a long white plume, and her left 
hand rested upon the head of a greyhound standing at her 
side. 

The resemblance between her and the fair Heloise was a 
striking one, and this Mrs. Counsellor gave as her opinion 
with admiring eyes. 

" Yes, the resemblance is striking and easily to be ex- 
plained; it is the picture of my sister, Adele," said the 
Baroness Taubeneck. " She was married to Count Sorma, 
and died two years ago, to my great grief. And, only to 
think, my brother-in-law, that sixty-year-old man, now 
plays this game upon us, and marries his steward's daugh- 
ter! I am beside myself!" 

" I know how you feel/' said Mrs. Counsellor, quite 
worked up. " It is hard to have to admit such elements 
into one's family, actually depressing! But, hi my esti- 
mation, these modern matches with girls off the stage, 
which the gentlemen seem to have such a fancy for, is yet 
more dreadful. When I picture to myself some theatrical 
star, perhaps even a ballet-dancer, who just a little while 
ago in shamefully short skirts was being clapped on the 
stage by the man-world, suddenly transformed into the 
mistress of such an anckfit and noble establishment as the 
count's, cold chills run over me, and every drop of blood 
in my body boils!" 

Herbert coughed, and the lady of the house caught up 
her bottle of salts, and inhaled its aroma as eagerly as 
though she had been taken very sick. 

At this instant a servant entered and handed Miss Von 
Taubeneck a letter upon a silver waiter. She seized upon 



188 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

the missive with quite unusual haste, and retired with it 
into the next room. 

After a few seconds, she called Herbert to come. 

Margaret sat just opposite the corner parlor fire-place. 
The large mirror above this slanted somewhat forward, and 
reflected a portion of the parlor with all its handsome 
things: but it also took in a window of the next room, a 
snug corner, f ull of flowers blooming behind tulle curtains. 
In this window recess stood Heloise, and she handed the 
open letter to the advancing gentleman. He ran over its 
contents, and drew still nearer to the young lady. They 
spoke softly and earnestly together, and in the midst of 
their talk, Heloise suddenly turned aside, broke off a full- 
blown red camellia from its stalk, and stuck it, with her 
own hand and a meaning smile, into Herbert's button- 
hole. 

" Bless me, how pale your are, Miss Lambert!" ex- 
claimed the baroness, catching hold of Margaret's hand. 
" Are you unwell?" 

The 'young girl shook her head vehemently, shrunk back, 
and noV blood rushed plenteously into her cheeks. She 
was as well as ever, she declared, and her turning pale was 
an after-effect of the cold ride. 

And now came Miss von Taubeneck in again, followed 
by Herbert. 

The baroness shook her finger threateningly at the young 
gentleman, but smiled at the same time. 

" What, have you plundered my finest camellia-bush? 
Do you not know that I care for it, with my own hand; 
that* every blossom is counted?" 

Heloise laughed. 

" I am the guilty one, mamma. I have decorated him. 
And have I not every reason to?" 

Her mamma nodded her head approvingly, and took a 
cup of coffee from the waiter, which the servant was just 
handing around. And now the camellias remained the 
subject of conversation. The baroness was a zealous cul- 
tivator of flowers, and therefore the duke had had a small 
winter-garden arranged for her. 

* You must presently look at it, Miss Lambert," said 
she to Margaret. " Your grandmother is familiar with it 
already, so that she will stay with me, and we can be chat- 
ting while Mr. Counsellor conducts you through it." 



THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 199 

Herbert readily accepted this commission. He hardly 
allowed Margaret time to drink a cup of coffee, because he 
thought darkness would soon be coming on. 

The young girl arose, and while Heloise took her aeat 
before the open piano, and began a prelude rather awk- 
wardly, the two left the parlor. 

They traversed quite a long suite of rooms, and from all 
the walls looked down upon them members of the reigning 
family, either in embroidered court-dresses, or suits of 
armor a bright-eyed race, with white skins and blooming 
cheeks, and with a tinge of red upon their immense mus- 
taches, or the trim Henri Quatre. 

" In your long woolen train, you glide as noiselessly 
through this interesting old palace as the ancestress of yon 
red-beard up there would have done,' 7 said Herbert, to his 
silent companion. 

" They would not recognize me," answered she, casting 
her eyes over the pictures; "I am too dark." 

" Very true; you are no German, Gretchen," he laugh- 
ingly assented. " You might well have been the model 
for Gustav Richter^s Italian boy." 

" We have Italian blood in our veins, too two Lam- 
berts brought wives home with them from Rome and Na- 
ples. Do you not know that, uncle?" 

" Xo, dear niece. I did not know it; lam not so versed 
in your family annals. If I may judge, however, by cer- 
tain characterstic features in their posterity, these wives 
must at least have been the daughters of doges, or else 
princesses /rom Roman palaces." 

"Pity that I must disturb this illusion, uncle! It fits 
in so nicely with your and grandmamma's wishes, and ex- 
actly under all these proud eyes " she pointed to the 
portraits " the correction will not be pleasant to you; 
but this does not alter the fact that one of the wives was 
the child of a fisherwoman, and the other the daughter of 
a stone-mason." 

" What? How interesting! So those sober old mer- 
chants had their fits of romance, too! But really and truly, 
what personal concern have I in the past of the Lambert 
family?" 

A sort of painful shiver passed over the young girl's 
frame. 

" None. You have nothin? at all to do with it," an- 



200 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

swered she, hastily. " You are free to ignore the relation- 
ship. To me only it can be dear; then from you I have 
not to dread interference and torture, such as I daily suf- 
fer at grandmamma's hands?" 

" Does she torture you?" 

She kept silence for a minute. Accusations behind an- 
other's back were not in her line, and here she was speak- 
ing to a son of his mother. 

But the evil words had escaped her now, and were not to 
be recalled. 

" Well, I have been disobedient and not gratified one of 
her darling wishes," said she, while Heloise was heard pass- 



But it is incomprehensible to me, how, in spite of every- 
thing, she can still hope to persuade me to revoke my de- 
cision. I can not understand that passionate desire to get 
into that exclusive circle in general, and is it not surprising 
to you, too, how grandmamma could so, as a matter of 
course, join in that anathema which the baroness hurled 
against her brother-in-law's intended? What am I more 
than (hat steward's daughter?" 

He smiled, and shrugged his shoulders: 

" Herr von Billingen is no count, and the Lamberts en- 
joy the reputation of an old patrician house, which is the 
view my mother may take of it, and so, after all, her de- 
meanor is not so very surprising to me. Less comprehen- 
sible are you, on the other hand. Whence comes that pas- 
sionate feeling against those privileged by birth, which 
often comes to light in such intensity?" 

As these last words were spoken, they entered the winter- 
garden; but neither the gorgeous colors of the flowers in 
bloom, nor their perfume streaming to meet them, seemed 
to have any existence for Margaret. Visibly agitated, she 
paused near the entrance. 

" You judge me quite falsely, uncle," said she. " It is 
not those exclusives who excite my wrath. I know too lit- 
tle about them. I only know that from time immemorial 
great privileges and rights have been annexed to their 
names, and that before their citadel an angel stands with 
drawn sword. How should that excite my ire? The world 
is wide, and they can go their own way, without presump- 



THE LADY WITH THE ftUBIES. 201 

tion and obscurity of birth encroaching upon one of them. 
The reproaches of bitterness against that class touch me 
not; but, indeed, I do feel resentment against those who 
are my equals, and of whom many are as fortunate as I am 
in being able to accredit their ancestry with a great stock 
of sterling virtue. These are as well born as the others, 
they, too, have ancestors, different ones of whom, in de- 
fense of their property, have caused many a high-born 
bushwhacker to bite the dust " 

He laughed. 

" And, nevertheless, in the whole portraiture of your 
forefathers, not one is represented in armor/' 

" And why should they be?" retorted she, in dead ear- 
nest. ' ' Each one proved himself a perfect man in life, as 
is testified by the prosperity of his house, and by the high 
estimation in which he was held by his contemporaries. 
Needs there any other outward sign? Had it ever re- 
mained so, the citizen would have also had his respected 
citadel. But their posterity would not have it so, but pre- 
ferred to cringe before aristocracy, and even to servilely 
become hewers of stone for those re-erecting overturned 
barriers and bulwarks. Genius, wealth, great talents, so 
soon as they appear on plebeian ground, are drawn up into 
that other sphere, as though by an invisible magnet ever 
bringing new power and consideration to the same, while 
the parties ' exalted ' ungratefully despise the names of 
their forefathers, while in their new rank they are merely 
tolerated, and regarded with contempt and aversion bj 
those ' to the manner born/ ' 

He began to look extremely grave. 

" Strange girl! How deeply she feels on subjects that 
hardly have existence for other young ladies of her age," 
said he, shaking his head. " And how severe did that 
judgment sound in your mouth! And yet, a short while 
ago, you at least knew how to conceal this harsh, strong 
perception of the relations of things under smiling satire 
and grace." 

"Since my father's death, I have forgotten how to 
laugh and jest," answered she, with quivering lips, tears 
dimming her eyes. " I know, though, that prejudice and 
false ideas were the very things that blinded him, and 
darkened his life unhealthf ully, although I do not know 
tlie precise nature of the pain that tortured his soul. But 



202 THE LADT WITH THE RUBIES. 

enough of this. I only make this oiie request of you, uncle. 
Now that you know in what a grave way I view the matter, 
will you not help me to persuade grandmamma to desist 
from besieging me longer? She gains nothing at all by it!'* 

" If you loved the man then your stern principles would 
succumb; he would come off victor!" 

" No; a thousand times, no!" 

" Margaret!" He suddenly stepped up to her, and 
grasped both her hands. " I say, ' if you loved him/ Can 
you not really conceive of one's renouncing, for the sake of 
another human being, all one's antipathies or fondest in- 
clinations, and in short, devoting one's self wholly to that 
other's happiness?" 

She pressed her lips tightly together, and shook her head 
vehemently. 

" You mean to say that you have no comprehension of 
the nature of love?" 

He pressed her hands more firmly, while she sought to 
withdraw them from him. 

With her eyes fastened upon the ground, she did not 
look up. 

" Must that be?" murmured she, with pallid lips. " Is 
such experience a necessary part of human life, and can no 
one go through this world without coming under the do- 
minion of that demoniacal power?" She suddenly straight- 
ened herself up, and with a mighty wrench, freed herself 
from his hold. " I will have nothing to do with it," cried 
she; and in her eyes burned a wild fire. " Peace of mind 
would I have, and not that deadly conflict " for one mo- 
ment she paused, as though shocked at herself, and con- 
scious of having betrayed more than she chose of the inner 
workings of her soul " as for that matter, though, I 
should not succumb," added she, with more self-command. 
' ' My best reliance would be the head. I hope it is clear 
and strong enough for that." 

" Think you so? Well, then, try it and suffer until " 

He broke off, and she looked shyly up at him; so deeply 
moved she had never seen him before. But he had a won- 
derful amount of self-control. After they had gone 
through the winter-garden once, he again stepped up to her. 

" We must go back into the parlor now," said he, quite 
tranquilly. _ " You would be embarrassed if they should 
ask your opinion about it, for you have seen nothing. So, 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 203 

observe here this splendid specimen of the palm genus, 
there the Dracaena Canariensis. And see, here over the 
tulip and hyacinth bed, the Spanish lilac hangs its clus- 
ters; they are on the point of bursting into bloom a verit- 
able picture of spring! Are you posted sufficiently now?" 

" Yes, uncle." 

" Yes, uncle!" repeated he, mockingly. " To-day, 
again, the title comes right glibly from the lips; evidently 
you can not get rid of that intense respect for my dignity, 
especially in this place." 

" No more here than at home, either." 

" There it is, always the same! The title of uncle sticks 
as close to me as the little girl's plait to the back of her 
head. Well, I'll put up with it until, may be, some day 
you will recollect my name. " 

Soon afterward, the three again sat in the sleigh; but 
they did not drive back to town. Herbert drove along the 
roaci that led through the country, directly to Millbrook. 

In the morning, his father had complained of rheuma- 
tism in the shoulder, and so Herbert said he wanted to 
see how the patient was, and urged on his horses. 

Mrs. Counsellor leaned back ill-humoredly in her corner. 
The turning aside was not at all after her taste; but she 
did not venture to protest openly. Instead of that, she 
spoke very sharply and disapprovingly of Margaret's taci- 
turnity. She had sat between the ladies looking as awk- 
ward and stiff as if she had never been in company before. 

" Silence has its virtues in presence of persons whose 
antecedents we are unacquainted with, dear mamma," 
whispered the young man, close to her ear. " I should have 
liked it better this afternoon, if you had not spoken out so 
recklessly against ballet-dancers. Baroness Taubeneck has 
been one herself." 

" Good heavens!" The lady with this exclamation fell 
back in utter confusion. " No, no, Herbert; that is a 
mistake, a groundless slander, the invention of evil 
tongues!" cried she, rallying, after brief reflection. " The 
whole world knows that Prince Louis' wife came of noble 
lineage." 

" Certaialy; but the family had been utterly impover- 
ished for a long while. The latest bearers of the old name 
had been subaltern officers, and the two beautiful sisters, 



204 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

Baroness Taubeneck as well as her sister Sorma, earned 
tbeir living as dancers on the stage under assumed names. **' 

" And you tell me this now for the first time?" 

" I only learned it myself very recently.-" 

Mrs. Counsellor spoke not another word. 

A few minutes later, the sleigh stopped before the yard 
of the Millbrook factory. The shades of evening had al- 
ready closed in, and from the long rows of windows in the 
work-rooms bright light fell upon the broad expanse of 
snow fronting them. 

Drawing a deep sigh, and pulling her furs more closely 
around her, the old lady, leaning on her son's arm, tripped 
over the snow-covered gravel walk. As the path curved 
around the fast-frozen pond, the councilor was to be seen 
standing at his open window. The lamp was burning on a 
table at his back; he was in his dressing-gown, and tapped 
his pipe against the window-board. 

" Only just look at the man!" scolded his wife, in a sub- 
dued tone,' however. " He pretends to have rheumatism, 
and yet there he stands in this frightful cold at the open 
window." 

" Yes; such habits of recklessness, mamma, can not be 
laid at our door," laughed Herbert, leading her to the door 
of the pavilion. 

" Ha, what a rare visit!" cried the old gentleman, turn- 
ing away from the open window as his wife crossed the 
threshold. " Can I believe my eyes, Francesca, is this act- 
ually you? And in darkness and fog, through snow and 
ice have you come! There is some mystery in it. " He 
quickly closed the window through which a fierce blast was 
indeed sweeping. " Shall I order coffee?" 

The little old lady fairly shook her sides laughing. 

" Coffee! At this time? Do not take it ill of me, 
Henry, but you have gro>vn dreadfully countrified in this 
Millbrook of yours! Why, it is almost tea-time! We 
come from Prince's Court." 

" I thought so. The mystery is solved." 

" And would not go back to town without finding out 
how you were. " 

" Thanks for your kind inquiries. Well, now, I am 
having some terrible twinges in my left shoulder, and many 
a time the noise is a bit too lively for me it is natural, 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 206 

To-day I just whistled to it, to put a little measure into 
the tune." 

" May we not send a doctor out to you, father?" asked 
Herbert, solicitously. 

" By no means, my son. Into this old machine " he 
pointed to his broad breast " there has never come a drop 
of poisonous physic, and I do not mean to ruin its working 
power either in my old days! The superintendent's wife 
has been plaguing me with mustard, and wrapped a bundle 
of oakum around me; she declared that it would help 
me." 

" Yes; especially if you stand at an open window in the 
cold, as you did just now," said Mrs. Counsellor, cutting- 
ly, flirting her muff around to get rid of the tobacco-smoke, 
which was very perceptible now that the window was 
closed. " I know you never will have anything to do with 
doctors, but you ought to try some simple remedy. " 

" A cup of camomile tea, say, Fannie?" 

" No; linden-blossoms with citron- juice would be more 

S-actical; that always helps me. You should perspire, 
enry." 

" Brr!" he shook himself. " Eather directly into the 
fires of purgatory. You see, pet " he flung his arm 
around Margaret's shoulders. She had long since thrown 
off hat and cloak, and stood by his side " that is the way 
they are going to maltreat your old grandfather. To the 
hospital with him, if he actually drinks linden-blossom tea. 
Do you not think so?" 

She smiled, and nestled close up to him. 

" In such things I am as inexperienced as a child, grand- 
papa; you need not appeal to my judgment. But, indeed, 
you must let me stay by you. It will not do for you to be 
left alone at night, with your pain. I can fill up your 
pipe, read and talk to you until sleep comes. " 

" Would you so, Mousie?" cried he, with delight. " Ah, 
yes; I feel well already. But to-morrow the will is to be 
opened, and you must not be missing there." 

" I shall thank uncle to have the sleigh sent for me." 

" And that provident relative will execute your wishes 
most punctiliously," said Herbert, with an ironically low 
bow. 

" Done !" cried the councilor. " But, Francesca, you 
are proceeding to the door at a half -run. Well, well I You 



20t> THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

put on your best bib and tucker to call over there " he 
pointed in the direction of Prince's Court '* and your fine 
clothes will be all smoked up here. I-have done right bad- 
ly with this smoking and suffocating ; 

" And with what a quality!" turning up her nose con- 
temptuously, and shaking out her silk train. 

" Well, well, I ask pardon. It is a fine weed, a strong 
weed. But of that you understand as little as I do of your 
herb-trees, Fannie. But don't put any constraint upon 
yourself. Your little feet are trembling with eagerness to 
be out in the fresh air once more. You have done more 
than your duty in having ventured into my ' smoky den.' 
1 Who could have made me believe it a half hour ago? 
There now, Herbert, lend your little mamma an arm, and 
hand her back to the sleigh, as prettily and speedily as pos- 
sible." 

lie gallantly opened the door, and the old lady glided 
past him with both hands buried in her muff, and in a min- 
ute more had vanished into the outer darkness. 

Just now, Margaret stooped and picked up the camellia 
from the ground which unconsciously Herbert had brushed 
off when he unbuttoned his fur coat. Silently she handed 
him the flower. 

" Ah! and a little more it would have been trodden 
upon!" said he, with pity in his tone, as he held the ca- 
mellia up searchingly to the light. " I should have been 
sorry for that. It is so beautiful, as fresh and brilliant as 
the donor herself. Do you not find it so, too, Margaret?" 

She turned silently away to the window, outside of which 
grandmamma was impatiently knocking, and he thrust the 
red flower into his vest-pocket, as once before he had done 
the white rose, and shook hands with his father; then he 
was gone. 



CHAPTEK XIX. 

THE opening of the will had taken place, and had 
Drought the bitterest disappointment to many of those dis- 
agreeable factory-hands who suddenly found themselves 
dismissed. The will had proved to be of old date. A few 
years after his marriage, Mr, Lambert had fallen off his 
horse, and the pbysicians had not been able to conceal the 



THE LAD1 WITH THE RUBIES. 207 

fact that his life was seriously imperiled. At that time 
he had made his will. His since deceased wife, Fannie, 
had been made sole heiress; he had, moreover, left direc- 
tions that the business should be closed, inasmuch as, at 
that time, there was no male heir. Reynold had been 
born the year afterward. Consequently, this will was no 
longer valid, and the two sole heirs, Margaret and Eeynold, 
entered upon their natural, uncurtailed rights. 

Immediately after the formality of reading this last will 
and testament, Margaret had returned to Millbrook, be- 
cause grandpapa had need of her. 

Eeynold, on the other hand, had seated himself at his 
desk, had rubbed his cold hands, together, and kept watch 
over the clerks as vigilantly and sourly as ever. His mien 
was unaltered what could that testament have brought to 
light which could have curtailed, by a jot or tittle, the 
rights which he had already usurped? 

And the people glanced timidly with something akin to 
dismay, at the cold, inexorable man, who now took the 
place of their former chief, with undisputed right, and to 
whom they were given over without redress. 

It was four o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. 
Herbert had just come home, and Mr. Counsellor stood in 
the front hall, chaffering with a market-woman over a ham. 
Then came in the painter, May. Dressed in black from 
head to foot, he approached the old lady in a sort of nerv- 
ous haste, his usually peaceful, friendly face was uncom- 
monly earnest, and bore the traces of excited feeling. 

He asked after her son, and the old lady pointed him to 
his office; but she followed him with an inquisitive glance, 
until he had vanished into Herbert's office, after modestly 
knocking there. 

The man was evidently out of sorts, as if some heavy 
burden were pressing upon his mind. She speedily dis- 
missed the market-woman, and went into her own cham- 
ber. She could hear the man speaking; he was talking 
loud and uninterruptedly, as though he were narrating an 
occurrence. 

She had kept up her prejudice against this person, up 
to the present day, not being able to forget that his daugh- 
ter Blanche had once caused her sleepless nights. What 
could he want? Should Herbert be engaged to intercede 
for him with Eeynold, that, dismissed as he was, he might 



208 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

yet obtain board and lodging? That should never, nerer 
be done! 

Mrs. Counsellor, as was universally known, was an ex- 
tremely delicate, highly cultured woman. He who should 
have asserted that her little ear, under its fine lace cap, 
ever came into close contact with her son's chamber door, 
would have been branded as a base slanderer. But she 
stood there now, nevertheless, on tiptoe, bending far for- 
ward, and listening, listening, until suddenly she fell back 
as if shot, and turned pale as a sheet. 

The next minute, she had torn open the door, and stood 
in the middle of her son's room. 

" Will you have the audacity, May, to repeat to my face 
the assertion that I have just heard you make?" 

She spoke dictatorially to the old man, and yet she visi- 
bly trembled in every limb. All softness had departed from 
that chill voice. 

" Certainly I will, Mrs. Counsellor," answered May, 
bowing with modest firmness. ' ' Word for word shall you 
hear my declaration once more: The deceased Mr. Lam- 
bert was my son-in-law; my daughter Blanche was his 
lawfully wedded wife." 

The old lady burst into an hysterical peal of laughter. 

" Dear man, the carnival is a long way off yet; reserve 
your coarse jest for that season!" cried she, with crushing 
contempt, scornfully turning her back upon him. 

" Mamma, permit me most earnestly to beseech you to 
return to your room!" said Herbert, offering her his arm 
in order to escort her back. 

He, too, was pale as a corpse, and evidently moved to 
the very depths of his spirit. 

She indignantly waved him back. 

" Were the question a matter of public business, you 
would be right to show me out of your office; but this is an 
artifully contrived fabrication that will disgrace our fam- 
ily : 

" Disgrace!" repeated the old painter, in a voice trem 
bling from indignation. ' ' Had my Blanche been the child 
of a knave, a villain, then should I have borne that insult 
in silence; but as it is, I protest decidedly against that des- 
ignation. I myself am the son of a distinguished govern- 
ment officer; my wife comes of a noble but impoverished 
family, and we have both gone through life with unblem- 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 209 

iehed reputations; not the least spot attaches to our name, 
unless it be one that I have finally sought to earn a liveli- 
hood in a factory, driven by want of success in my profes- 
sion, regular academic artist though I am. But it has 
become the fashion in wealthy burgher families to speak 
of it as a mesalliance if a poor girl marries one of their 
set, and to consider their blood contaminated, just as the 
nobility do in case of mercantile intruders. And, unfort- 
unately, the deceased had imbibed this utterly groundless 
prejudice, and thereby burdened himself with heavy guilt 
against his tenderly beloved son." 

i " Oh, pardon; I did not know that Mr. Lambert was 
ever guilty of the least injustice to his only son, my grand- 
son, Reynold!" scornfully remarked Mrs. Counsellor, with 
a contemptuous shrug of her shoulders. 

" I am speaking of Max Lambert, my grandson." 
" Brazen impudence!" wrathfully exclaimed the old lady. 
Her son stepped up to her, and earnestly exhorted her 
to forbear any further insulting remarks. She should let 
the man speak out; examination would have to be insti- 
tuted, which should soon settle the merit of his claims. 

She walked to the nearest window, and turned her back 
upon them both. And now the old artist drew forth a 
great letter envelope. 

" Does this paper contain the legal documents certify- 
ing the consummation of the marriage?" asked Herbert, 
eagerly. 

" No," answered May; " it is a letter from my daugh- 
ter, written" at London, in which she announces her mar- 
riage to Mr. Lambert." 

" And do you possess no other papers?'* 
" Alas! no. After my daughter's death, the deceased 
took all those documents into his own keeping." 

Mrs. Counsellor laughed aloud, and turned around. 
" Do you hear, my son?" cried she, triumphantly. " The 
proofs are lacking, as a matter of course! This abomina- 
ble accusation against Baldwin is an attempt at extortion, 
in optima forma " She shrugged her shoulders. " It is 
possible that the seductive arts of that little coquette, who 
used to flirt on the warehouse balcony before our very eyes, 
may not have been without their effect upon him, too; 
it is possible, moreover, that a closer intimacy may jiave 
sprung up between them in the outside world that is. noth.' 



210 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

ing singular nowadays, although I never should have sus- 
pected Baldwin of such a love-scrape. Never mind; I will 
allow that; but a marriage! Rather would I be hewn in 
pieces than believe in such an act of imbecility!" 

The old painter held the letter out to Herbert. " Please 
read it, sir/' said he, in an utterly despondent voice, " and 
appoint an hour to-morrow morning when I may lay the 
rest before you. It is impossible for me, any longer, to 
hear my dead child so shamefully calumniated. It requires 
the greatest self-control on my part to allow other eyes than 
my own to look upon that writing/' His agonized glance 
hung jealously upon the letter which Herbert now held. 
" It strikes me as treason to my daughter, whose only fault 
Bhe there confesses to her parents. "We had no suspicion 
that our chief and benefactor had misled our child into an 
affair of the heart at his urgent desire, in obedience to his 
positive command, she kept it all secret from us. She 
died in a foreign land; nobody in this town had any idea of 
the strange relations that existed, and so far as her honor 
was concerned, there would have been no occasion ever to 
divulge the matter. Had she been childless, I should have 
let the whole affair die a natural death. But the point is 
to obtain for her son his rights; and that I shall do with 
every means that lies at my disposal/' 

" You should have done that in my brother-in-law's life- 
time/' interposed Herbert, almost impatiently, after he 
had traversed the apartment several times in evidently 
great excitement. 

" Herbert!" shrieked the old lady. " Is it possible that 
you attach the slightest credence to this tissue of lies?" 

" You are right, I was too weak in presence of that mas- 
terful man," answered May, without heeding Mrs. Coun- 
sellor's outcry. "I should not have suffered him to put 
me off from time to time with promises, as I did. When, 
a year ago, we ventured to bring our grandchild home, 
Mr. Lambert said that circumstances would not allow the 
open recognition of his son, born in second wedlock. On 
the other hand, he would make his will as soon as possible, 
in case of the worst, to secure to little Max his rights as his 
eon. Well, he did not keep his promise in full conscious- 
ness of his great strength, that ' worst case ' of his sudden 
death probably seemed quite impossible to him. But I do 
not despair; the legal proofs exist somewhere the mar- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 211 

riage certificate and entry of my grandson's baptism these 
papers must be found among his effects. And, therefore, 
I come to you. Mr. Herbert, I have a repugnance to 
going to law. I lay the matter in your hands." 

" I accept the trust/' answered Herbert. " The seala 
have been removed, now, and I give you my word that 
nothing shall be left undone that could throw light upon 
the subject." 

"I thank you with all my heart!" said the old man, 
offering him his hand. Then he bowed in the direction 
where stood Mrs. Counsellor, and went out. 

For a short time it was still in that room, as oppressively 
still as it commonly is after the first blast of an oncoming 
tempest; nothing was heard but the rustling of the paper 
which Herbert was taking out of its envelope and unfold- 
ing, while his mother continued gazing as though spell- 
bound at the door, behind which this unlucky man had dis- 
appeared. But now she rallied. 

"Herbert!" she called to her son, reading, "can you 
really see your mother stand before you in such feaiiul ex- 
citement while you remain absorbed in the lying tales of 
that miserable coquette?" 

" These are no lying tales, mamma," said he, looking 
up, visibly affected. 

" Ah, you are touched, my son, are you? "Well, that 

per is patient; and the pretty woman will, of course, 
ave used all her arts in order to veil somewhat her misde- 
meanors from her parents. And a man like you lets him- 
self be cheated, and believes in them." 

" I believed in them before, mamma." 

" Eidiculous! The talk cf an old, half-witted man." 

" Dear mamma, give up wanting to quiet yourself and 
me with false imaginations; rather look the truth steadily 
in the eye! With those first explanatory words of the old 
painter it seemed as though a bandage had been removed 
from my eyes. Baldwin's enigmatical bearing during these 
last years, the key for which we have sought in vain, lies 
unveiled before me! He was waging a fearful inward con- 
flict. Had not death snatched away from him this second 
wife, it might have turned out differently. With that 
beautiful, highly cultivated wife at his side he might have 
BO far mastered himself as to acknowledge his domestic ties 
alter awhile. But then, the charm was broken. Nothing 



pa 
ha 



212 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

was left to him but the fact that he was the son-in-law of 
old May, and so the coward in him conquered the 
wretched coward!" he exclaimed, between his teeth. 
" How could he find it in his heart to disown his boy, that 
splendid fellow, who must have been his pride, refusing 
him access to his natural home? How could he bear to 
see him suffer from Reynold's mean envy? Poor little fel- 
low! How he whispered into my ear by the coffin of the 
deceased, ' I would rather kiss him on the mouth; he haa 
often kissed me, in the door-way, when we were quite 
alone ' " 

" You see, my son, all that only proves me correct in 
affirming this ' splendid fellow ' to be a bastard," inter- 
posed Mrs. Counsellor. She had grown quite calm ; even a 
supercilious smile played about her mouth. " But you 
seem wholly to overlook the main reason why Baldwin 
could not, durst not, enter into a second union namely, 
his oath, which Fanny took with her into the grave " 

11 Yes, that is just what I find right hard to forgive in 
my sister. It is a cruelty, a monstrous action, to take ad- 
vantage of the pangs of separation, and thus chain a miser- 
able man for life to the hand of the dead." 

11 "Well, we will not dispute about that. I look at it with 
other eyes than yours; and mark me, this circumstance ia 
the best weapon left to us. Trust me, those papers are not 
to be found they have never existed. Well, so much the 
better! The matter can be settled with money; the prop- 
erty of the two rightful heirs will, indeed, be made to 
bleed; but what help is there for it? All can be arranged 
in perfect quiet, and is much to be preferred to giving 
wind to the scandal of having a step-mother of low origin." 

Her son looked her full in the face. "Are you in 
earnest, mother?" asked he, feelingly. " You prefer to 
see the departed charged with the base crime of seduction? 
Great God! to what immorality does not that wretched 
prejudice of station lead? Was not Fanny herself the 
daughter of an untitled citizen? And was not her own 
mother, my father's first wife, also a simple maiden from 
the middle walks of life?" 

" That is right! Shout these facts out loud before all 
the world, just now, when we are about to mount up so 
rapidly!" said the old lady, in a tone of suppressed pas- 



THE LADT WITH THE RUBIES. 213 

eion. " I do not understand you, Herbert. "Whence, all 
at once, this painful apprehension ?" 

" 1 have never thought differently," cried he, warmly. 

" Well, then, it is your fault if I erred. One never does 
know how you really think! A free interchange of opin- 
ion, such as should be between mother and son, never takes 
place with us one never knows where to find you. As 
for the rest, think of the affair as you choose; but I have 
made up my judgment. I do prefer to have a wrong act 
in the family condoned with money to finding myself sud- 
denly kin to Tom, Dick, or Harry. But there is another 
question I would like to ask? Have you no heart what- 
ever for Fanny's children? If a third rightful heir steps 
in, then they will suffer a monstrous loss." 

" There will be plenty left for them." 

" In your eyes, perhaps; but not in those of the world. 
Gretchen is one of the first matches in the country; and 
although she has just foolishly thrown away the most 
brilliant prospects, there must come a time when she shall 
take a more rational view of things. But what would be- 
come of these brilliant prospects if a third of the Lambert 
property fell to later born children, as to which I do not 
doubt for an instant." 

" A girl like Margaret will be in demand, let her fortune 
dwindle ever so much," replied Herbert. He had stepped 
up to the window and remained there, with his head avert- 
ed from his mother. " The less the better!" added he, 
almost in a murmur. 

She clapped her hands together over Her head. 
" Gretchen? Without money? What fancies do take pos- 
session of you, Herbert! Take that halo from her, and the 
poor little thing would be like a bird picked of all its 
feathers. I do declare, I could almost wish that after my 
death you would be obliged to marry the girl yourself!" 

" That would not be hard for me to do," said he, with 
an imperceptible smile. 

" Rather harder, perhaps, than to appoint a new clerk 
you may believe your old mother, my son," retorted she, 
mockingly. " But why discuss impossibilities?" said she, 
abruptly cutting short their colloquy. " We are both ex- 
cited I, over the shamelessness of the man who threw a 
bomb-shell into our house, which, upon nearer inspection, 
turns out to be a bogus one, and you, because you hare 



214 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

come across the secret confessions of a former flame when 
we have cooled down, we can speak together again. Of 
course, for the present, this affair remains a secret between 
as two. The children, Margaret and Eeynold, will learn 
of it soon enough when the time comes to subtract from 
their inheritance the sum requisite to atone for the miser- 
able wrong-doing of their father. Poor children!" 
So Baying, she left her son's office. 



CHAPTEE XX. 

TO-DAY the sun shone full upon the city a pale, power- 
less winter sun, that tried in vain to produce any impression 
upon the hardened snow with which the roofs were panoplied. 
It is true that single fine threads of water ran downward, 
but they clung to the edges of the roofs in the form of sil- 
ver fringe. The tender, yearning house-plants behind the 
windows rejoiced, nevertheless, in the sun's faint smile, 
and poll parrot in the upstairs parlor shrieked and screamed 
with delight, as though the gold sparks scintillating from 
his brass ring and the picture-frames on the wall had ema- 
nated from real summer warmth, inviting to the green of 
the court-yard. But pretty poll had other things to make 
her feel satisfied. It had been long since she had heard so 
many terms of endearment, or received so much biscuit 
and sugar as she had this day. Sunshine in general seemed 
to pervade the atmosphere of the elegant upper apartments 
of the Lambert mansion. The beggar children got more 
bread and less scolding than usual; the cook, oftener than 
was fair, left her duties to try on once more the pretty hat 
Mrs. Counsellor had given her, that was almost new, and 
the chamber-maid sung merrily at her work as she pon- 
dered how she should best remodel her gift one of the old 
lady's cashmere dresses. 

L)own in the Lambert kitchen it seemed very different 
" because they had a heart, and no stone in their breast," 
as Barbara was forever saying. There was no occasion to 
trouble now about the warehouse, as had been customary 
for so many years; but if, in a dwelling just across the 
yard, a very ill person lay, it was not in the nature of a 
Christian to act as if that dwelling were a mere heap of 
gtones, and to forget that hearts therein were beating IE 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 215 

trouble and anguish of spirit. And, therefore, it was that 
folks moved softly, involuntarily more quietly than usual 
in that kitchen. 

Yesterday, toward nightfall, Barbara had gone to the 
fountain to draw water, and at the same time the nurse 
from the warehouse had come for a fresh drink. With 
deep emotion, the woman had told how a few hours before 
Mrs. May had had a stroke of apoplexy she could not 
speak, and her left side was paralyzed. The doctor, who 
sat by her bedside, considered the case a very serious one. 
And the tears had come into her eyes as she told how old 
Mr. May had walked up and down the room, wringing his 
1 hands, and in his agony not having even a look to give 
poor little Max, who sat huddled up at the corner of his 
grandmother's bed, never taking his eyes off her distorted 
face, and refusing to put a morsel of food into his mouth. 
And then she had whispered, furthermore, into the old 
cook's ear, that all day long Mrs. May had seemed greatly 
excited, and that in the afternoon her husband had come 
home looking as white as a sheet, and so hoarse that he 
could hardly speak so as to be heard. She, the nurse, had 
gone into the kitchen to wash up some things, but directly 
afterward had heard a dull sound, and hurrying into the 
next room, found that Mrs. May had fallen to the floor. 
What could have happened to shock the poor man so, the 
nurse did not know. But Mrs. Counsellor knew. Herbert 
had had old May summoned to his office in order to report 
the incontrovertible fact that not the least b' it of paper had 
been found, not the shadow of evidence among the effects 
of the deceased to testify to the legal consummation of his 
marriage to his second wife, nor any Deference to the exist- 
ence of his younger son. 

The secret that had threatened to spin its web across 
from the warehouse to his proud vis-a-vis therewith seemed 
to fall into that darkness which covers up so many of the 
unsolved riddles of this world. To be sure, there still re- 
mained to old May personal investigation in those London 
churches where took place his daughter's marriage, and 
the baptism of her child. But in her letter the young 
woman had not mentioned the name of the church where 
she " had stood by his side a happy bride, and received from 
him the wedding-ring." Old May had furthermore told 
Herbert that one day he had received a letter from his 



216 THE LADY WITH THE BUBIES. 

daughter's nurse (likewise her friend) stating that a grand- 
child had been born to him, and three days afterward had 
followed a telegram announcing that Mrs. Lambert lay at 
the point of death. As speedily as possible he had set out 
for London, in order, once more, to behold his only child; 
but he had come too late; the earth had already closed over 
her. He had found his daughter's home magnificently 
furnished apartments already deserted; only the nurse 
was there, attending, by Mr. Lambert's direction, to the 
sale, by auction, of all the furniture. She had informed 
him that Mr. Lambert had journeyed away immediately 
after the funeral. He had behaved like such a madman 
that she had kept out of his way as much as possible. He 
had not even looked at his boy, much less caressed him, 
because the poor child had been the occasion of Blanche's 
death. Nevertheless, he had carried off with him the little 
new-born infant and his wet-nurse, for he never wanted to 
see London again, he said. The entire wardrobe of the 
deceased, and other little possessions, he had given to her 
for her attentions, but the lady added, from her desk he 
had abstracted every letter and paper of all sorts. Not a 
scrap of writing could be found in any of the drawers, for 
such a memento of his daughter old May said he had 
sought for as the only memento that he desired, or upon 
which he had a claim. Nothing, then, was left for him 
but her favorite the little pet dog, Philine, which had 
been left lying in a corner of the room, and now gratefully 
came to him, licking his hand. Not until the lapse of a 
year did Mr. Lambert return to his German home a com- 
pletely changed man, whose outburst of despair had deeply 
moved and distressed the aged parents of his deceased wife. 
In the darkness of night he had come to them. Then, for 
the first time, had they learned that he had given little Max 
into the charge of the widow of a deceased business friend 
a highly cultivated and distinguished lady. The child, 
then, had been well brought up; Mr. Lambert had regu- 
larly corresponded with the lady, and kept himself accu- 
rately informed as to all that concerned his little son; on 
the other hand he had never been able to obtain his own 
consent to see his child again. But now, about a year ago, 
the hidy in Paris had suddenly died ; and Mr. Lambert had 
announced his determination to have the boy brought up 
in a public school. To this Ilrs. May had declared herself 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 21? 

bitterly opposed; the child was too young, and needed the 
soothing influences of the domestic circle; and, moreover, 
she claimed the privilege of having him in her family as 
her right as a grandmother. She had long enough con- 
trolled her desire to see Blanche's child; and so, frightened 
by her threat of calling in the interposition of her relatives, 
one day, he had had little Max brought to his grandpar- 
ents' home in their native Germany. 

As though by miracle, a sudden change had then been 
effected; at sight of the beautiful, intelligent boy the deep- 
est fatherly tenderness toward him had sprung up in the 
solitary man's heart. Often of an evening he had come 
over to the warehouse, and for hours sat silently by the 
bedside of the sleeping child, holding his little hand in his. 
He had also devised great plans for his younger son's future. 

All this the old painter had narrated simply and natural- 
ly in the quiet of the young statesman's office, and if a 
doubt had still harbored in Herbert's soul it would have 
immediately been dissipated by the unadorned representa- 
tion of the deeply moved old man. But here the firmest 
conviction settled nothing; nothing would do but positive 
proof, written down in black upon white. 

" Without regularly accredited documents, all claims 
vanish into smoke, so travel you must!" Herbert had said. 
*' You will stumble upon great difficulties, and need much 
time and money; but for the sake of your righteous cause, 
you will cheerfully surmount difficulties, and sacrifice your 
time, and as to money, it will come in due time; do not be 
uneasy on that score." 

This was feeble consolation at best, a mere straw to hold 
by in times of such deadly anxiety; but such consolation as 
it was, the old man had not been able to impart it to his 
wife, for at his very first words she had fainted away before 
his eyes. 

In the counting-room of the Lambert house, meanwhile, 
everything went on its usual way. Could the young chief 
have had any idea of the tempest that was gathering on 
the verge of the horizon, his attention would have been 
very differently engaged than with the trifles now making 
his principal care. 

He had not yet done with the breaking up of old habits. 
Here and there were still back doors, through which pilfer- 
ing might yet be possible. Not only must every nook and 



218 THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 

corner of the house be again inspected, but the court-yard, 
too, demanded watchful eyes, with its second means of 
egress, viz., the warehouse-gate. Through there came 
and went female employees, who might thus easily sneak 
off victuals and wood from the kitchen, and oats from the 
horses' stalls; therefore, each outlook upon the court-yard 
was left free, and window-blinds that had been drawn for 
long years were now thrown open. Already on yesterday, 
Barbara had experienced the disadvantages of these posts of 
observation when she had returned with her bucket from 
the well. Immediately afterward the young gentleman had 
come into the kitchen, had hotly scolded the old cook, and 
once for all prohibited this new-fashioned way of servants 
gossiping at the fountain in the yard. 

This afternoon, too, Margaret had come back from Mill- 
brook. She had reason to be content with the results of 
her filial attentions, for her grandpapa was much better. 
But the family physician whom Herbert had privately ques- 
tioned, had expressed the opinion that his disease could 
never be wholly eradicated in that slightly built pavilion, 
exposed as it was to all the winds of heaven, and that the 
old gentleman should by all means transfer his residence 
to town during the severest winter weather. 

Thereupon, Mr. Counsellor had given his consent to the 
change, so much the rather as he was not expected to take 
up his quarters in the upper story. 

A few rooms, just over the Lambert suite of apartments, 
on the first floor, were to be furnished for him, on account 
of the warmed floor. 

Now the thing to do was to make the old gentleman's 
abode comfortable, and on this errand Margaret was in 
town. 

Aunt Sophie was charmed to have her again, although 
Barbara exclaimed piteously, upon seeing "poor, dear 
Miss Gretchen's little face so thin and puny from grieving 
herself to death." 

Aunt Sophie rejoiced, moreover, in secret that the old 
gentleman was going to make his home there, for a mascu- 
line will was needed there a voice that, if uplifted in com- 
mand, could inspire fear and respect. 

That little dictatorial old woman in the second story 
needed somebody to manage her, for no sooner hacl the 
eyes of the former master closed, than she showed her se- 



i 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 219 

eret aversion to that abominably blunt and opinionated 
Sophie interfering in the management of household affairs 
and criticising "that old maid/' as though she had been 
subject to her authority. The first hour of her arrival, 
Margaret learned of the trouble that had overtaken the 
family in the warehouse. Aunt Sophie and Barbara were 
taking counsel together in the kitchen how they might get 
to old May, unobserved, a few delicacies for the patient. 

" I'll carry them over," said Margaret. 

Barbara clapped her hands together over her head. 

" For God's sake, no! that would cause death and de- 
struction I" 

Thus she begged and insisted, saying that the people in 
the warehouse were still a thorn in Master Eeynold's flesh 
he despised them much more than his father had done. 
Yesterday he had stormed at an old servant like her, scold- 
ing her outrageously because she had chatted awhile with 
their nurse at the fountain ; and if his own sister were to 
" make herself so common," no; she would never survive 
the consequences! 

Margaret, however, was not to be diverted from her 
purpose. She silently took charge of a little basket, con- 
taining some glasses of jelly, and went into her own room. 
There she wrapped herself up in an ample white burnoose 
of fleecy white wool, and set out on her way. 

But she was unfortunate. At the very moment that she 
set foot upon the stairs leading to the entrance hall, grand- 
mamma came down the grand staircase in her elegant fur- 
lined velvet mantle. She was evidently minded to pay a 
visit in the city. 

" What, snowy white in the deepest mourning, Gret- 
chen!" cried she. " You are not going to let yourself be 
seen in town that way, I hope?" 

" No. I am going to the warehouse," said Margaret, 
firmly, yet casting a shy glance in the direction of the 
counting-room, where was heard the rattling of a window. 

" To the warehouse!" repeated Mrs. Counsellor, trip- 
ing down the last steps with redoubled quickness. ' ' Then 

must speak a few words with you, first." 

" I, too!" called across Reynold, shutting down the 
window again. 

Directly afterward he entered the front hall. 

" Let us go into the drawing-room," said grandmamma. 



220 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

She threw back her veil, and led the way; and Margaret 
had nothing to do but follow her, for Reynold marched 
close behind her, like an escorting gendarme. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

THEY had hardly got into the room before he uncere- 
moniously caught hold of Margaret's mantle, and laid 
bare the little basket on her arm. 

" Raspberry jelly/' " apricot jelly," he read off the label 
upon the glasses. " Plenty of good things from our store- 
room. And that stuck-up little chorister over there is to 
eat them, I suppose, eh, Margaret?" 

" No, not he," said Margaret, quietly. " You have 
heard, perhaps, that Mrs. May is very ill. She has'had a 
stroke of apoplexy." 

"No; I know nothing about it. Such things do not 
come to our ears, because we never gossip with our serv- 
ants. I am minded just like papa, who never asked 
whether the people at the warehouse lived or died." 

" And that is the right way," chimed in his grandmoth- 
er. " The master of a factory must maintain a severe re- 
serve; otherwise, how could he get along with his hundreds 
of workmen? But, for Heaven's sake, Gretchen, tell us 
what put it into your head to wear that opera cloak in broad 
daylight?" 

With keen displeasure, her eyes surveyed the white wrap- 
piur. 

'' I did not want to look so gloomy when I stood by a 
sick-bed." 

" What! For this woman's sake would you lay off 
mourning for your own father?" cried the old lady, an- 
grily. 

" He will pardon me." 

" Who, papa?" laughed Reynold, shortly and hardly. 
' Do not say things, Margaret, that you do not yourself 
believe. Just when, before the eyes of us all, too, you are 
going to act the sister of charity in the warehouse, when, 
once for all, he forbade your visiting there, because ' such a 
going to and fro was not our habit!' And I shall see to it 
that Iris wishes are carried out. Is there not an unpardon- 
able want of propriety, moreover, in your visiting at the 



THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 221 

house of a man whom we have been compelled to dismiss 
on account of his notorious laziness?" 

; ' The man is half blind." 

" Ah, have you learned that, too, already? Why, yes, 
he tries to excuse himself in that way, but he is not really 
so badly off. As for the rest, he has not been nearly long 
enough in the business for us to be under any obligation 
to provide for himself and family, even supposing that this 
pretended blindness were genuine. Ask the book-keeper, 
he will tell you that I am treating him quite correctly. 
There now, lay off that opera cloak. You see that you are 
making a little fool of yourself with your officious a'ssump- 
tion of the Samaritan's task." 

" No, Reynold; I see nothing of the kind," answered 
she, softly but firmly; " no more than I believe that I must 
be hard and pitiless because you are so. I do not willingly 
cross you because I know that any contradiction excites 
you ; but through my desire to spare you any vexation, I 
may not neglect other duties." 

" Stuff and nonsense, Gretchen! What is that woman 
to you?" 

' ' She has the same claims upon her fellow-creatures for 
relief and assistance as any other sick person, and so be 
good, Eeynold, and do not hinder me from doing what I 
deem right and proper!" 

" And what if I forbid you, nevertheless?" 

" Forbid!" repeated she, indignantly. " You have no 
right to do that, Reynold?" 

Hereupon, he flew into a violent passion, and his sallow 
complexion turned livid with rage. 

His grandmother caught hold of his hand soothingly. 

" How can you oppose him so obstinately, Gretchen!" 
said she, querulously. ' ' Assuredly, he already has a cer- 
tain right to direct you. In a short time he will be undis- 
puted master here, for, certainly you know this much, 
that the old Lambert mansion, together with the firm, 
falls to the only male heir of the line." 

" The daughter will then simply have her portion count- 
ed out to her, and will no longer have any control over 
that ground, were it ten times over her birth-place," chimed 
in Reynold, in his squeaking, boyish voice, as promptly as 
though he had been long waiting for an opportunity to 
make this revelation to his sister. 



222 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" I know that, Reynold/' said she, mournfully, with 
moistened eyes, while the lines of grief about her mouth 
deepened. " I know that with papa I have also lost my 
dear old home. But you are not master here, yet awhile, 
to turn me out of doors, if I do not meekly do your will 
unquestioningly." 

" And so for these few weeks you prefer to be the same 
hard head that you have always been, and so go to the 
warehouse whether or no, G retch en?" put in Reynold, 
peering at her with his little lion's eyes. 

At the same time, with assumed indifference, he thrust 
his hands into his pockets, although he was really trem- 
bling from exertion. 

" Well, I don't care," added he, shrugging his should- 
ers, " if you refuse to listen to reason from me, however, 
Uncle Herbert will know how to set you straight." 

" Leave him out of the question, Reynold," objected his 
grandmother, with animation. " He will hardly put his 
finger in the pie. He has already positively declined to be- 
come Gretchen's guardian. Why, what do you see to shock 
you so in that, Gretchen? Dear me, what eyes! Are you 
surprised that a man like him should object to having the 
charge of so headstrong a thing as you are? Bless me, 
child! anybody who knows ycu would think twice before 
putting himself into such relations with you. Only think 
of your unpardonable behavior about that match which we 
all desired so much for you. However, we have nothing to 
do with that now. I am in a hurry, else my visit to the 
sick wife of the privy councilor Somme will be at an un- 
seasonable hour, and so I shall be brief with you, and let 
you know that you go against yourself by keeping com- 
pany with those warehouse people. Very shortly things 
will come to your ears, startling things, that may possibly 
cost you lots of money; but if for all this you will have 
your own way, then, as your grandmother, once for all, I 
forbid such a visit, and hope to find the obedience that is 
due!" 

She took her muff from the table, pulled her veil down, 
and was about to move off, when Reynold held her back. 

" Money, did you say, grandmamma?" asked he, in 
breathless suspense. " I do hope that man over there has 
not the audacity to set up any claims against our house! He 
has been referring to Uncle Herbert, hasn't he?" 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 223 

" Don't get excited, Reynold/' said the old lady, sooth- 
ingly. " The affair is only agitated slightly; who knows 
whether it will ever find bottom? But in any case, we 
know that these Mays are designing folks, therefore, no 
mercy, say I! One does not lavish acts of kindness upon 
one's sworn foesP' 

She left her room. Reynold, however, picked up the 
little basket of preserves which Margaret had set down 
upon the table, and called to Aunt Sophie. 

She came from the kitchen, and he asked her for the 
store-room keys. 

" Heaven forbid ! You do not get them, for you have 
nothing in the world to do in my preserve closet," declared 
Aunt Sophie, positively. " Are you going to be a Paul 
Pry? And let that basket alone, too, if you please; yon 
have no right to those things whatever! They are made 
out of fruit from my own garden that I put up every year 
for poor sick people." 

He promptly replaced the basket on the table. For, 
from the time that he was a toddling babe, he had known 
his aunt to be truth itself, so he did not doubt her now. 
" If that is the case, I admit that I have indeed nothing to 
do with them," he agreed; "and you can do what you 
choose with your own fruit. Only you are to send nothing 
to the warehouse; that I will not suffer!" 

" So you will not suffer it! Listen, this head " and 
she tapped her forehead with her forefingers "forfoity 
years, it has been so long since my good parents died, has 
been accustomed to guide its own matters, and never sub- 
mitted to be twirled about as others dictated, and now shall 
such a chit as yourself presume to make laws for me? Your 
sainted father never did anything of the sort." 

"Oh! he would have acted very differently, if he had 
known that this creature May was his secret enemy. I 
never did have any confidence in that warehouse crew, 
from the time that I was a little thing, their sneaking, 
deceitful ways have disgusted me. Well, no sooner did 
papa's eyes close than now they show their teeth regu- 
lar Jesuits they are. But it is unconscionable of grand- 
mamma to disturb us by such disquieting news and mys- 
terious hints. I should have insisted upon her explaining 
herself. But I know that nothing is to be done with her 
when ghe has visiting upon the brain, and her velvet cloak 



221 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

on, then the ground burns under her feet, and she does as 
if the life and welfare of the whole city hinged upon hex 
appearance in a certain parlor. There, now, I see you are 
going to show yourself rational, Gretchen. That's right, 
carry your white mantle and put it away again in the 
wardrobe. But do not think I believe in your perfect con- 
version, for all that. I shall keep a sharp eye on the 
court-yard and warehouse, you may depend." 

With this threat, he took his departure, while Margaret 
hung her mantle over her arm, in order to carry and put 
it away. 

" But do tell me, Gretchen; what carious tales are these? 
What is this about the Mays?" exclaimed Aunt Sophie, 
after the door had shut upon Reynold's retreating form. 

" They are reported to be our enemies/' replied the 
young girl, with a bitter smile. 

" Nonsense! All that has been hatched out in that 
upper story!" exclaimed her aunt indignantly. " If that 
old man, with his honest, open countenance, is false and 
double-dealing, one may as well give up everything, for 
then there is no good in humanity, and there is no use in 
troubling about what becomes of one. But that story ia 
not true. I will bet my little finger on it!" 

" I believe as little in it as you do; and all those hints 
and threats should not keep me from going to see the sick 
woman," said Margaret. " But I dare not on Reynold's 
account. The least excitement makes him turn so blue in 
the face that it distresses me indescribably, aunt! Hia 
condition has evidently altered for the worse, although the 
doctor will not own it. How could I do anything to vex 
and make him worse? We must devise some other ways 
and means for conveying a little help to the patient." 

A little later she went up into the apartments which she 
was having aired and heated for the reception of the grand- 
father. The renovation planned in October had, of course, 
been pretermitted until now. The pictures and mirrors 
were still standing in the passage of the haunted side-wing. 

Once more there was to be seen an infusion of life into 
those deserted chambers; a breath of warmth into the icy 
atmosphere of that immense hall, whose chill to-day struck 
to the very heart of the orphan as she entered it, bringing 
back in full force a sense of the misery entailed by the re- 
cent dread catastrophe. Here, where ail the windows 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 225 

opened to the north, a sad, wintery light pro vailed; and out- 
side, upon the broad, snowy landscape, that stretched be- 
yond the town, far, far away to meet the cloudless blue 
sky, and even the sunshine shed but a pale yellowish glow 
this late afternoon. All looked so cold, bleak and comfort- 
less that it was hard to imagine that the earth would ever 
again be green or bear golden harvests, or that the bare, 
black arms of those fruit-trees would ever be covered with 
blossoms. 

Margaret stood in the last of the hall windows. Here 
she had heard the sound of her father's voice for the last 
time, and here, after five years' absence, in her youthful 
indiscretion she had slipped into this deep, dark niche in 
order, unobserved, to be a looker-on at the new comedy 
- being played in her father's house. Yes, and here, too, the 
former student had appeared before her as the first citizen 
of her native town; and she had made fun of him and 
mocked at him in her soul. Oh! that with all her boasted 
strength of mind and will she could not again attain to the 
same standpoint! She doubled up her fist involuntarily, 
and cast an infinitely bitter look out upon the wide, wide 
world out of doors. But at this moment she shrunk back, 
starting violently. Herbert came across the court-yard 
from the warehouse gate. Possibly he had observed her 
gesture of chagrin, for he smiled and bowed; then she flew 
into the red parlor, which had been fixed up for a sitting- 
room for her grandfather. 

But her rapid retreat availed her nothing; in a few sec- 
onds Herbert stood before her. He had come almost every 
day to Millbrook on his father's account, but he now held 
out his hand to her as gladly as though he had not seen 
her for a long while. 

" It is well that you are back again," said he. " Now 
we shall nurse our patient together finely. It \r as high 
time for you to have the benefit of the spacious spartments 
in this house, with their lofty ceilings. Your stay in that 
damp, contracted little pavilion has done you no good, you 
have turned so pale." 

He sought her eyes with solicitude, and yet with a sar- 
castic smile; but she kept them averted, and then he con- 
tinued, " Your pale face at the window just now startled 
me much, as I left the warehouse." 

" The warehouse?" asked she, incredulously. 



226 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" Why, yes. I have been seeing after that poor, ill lady; 
have you any objection to it, Margaret?" 

"I? How should I blame you for acting with such 
genuine humanity and kindliness?" cried she with anima- 
tion. Her eyes beamed with gratification, and at that 
minute she was once more the enthusiastic maiden, whose 
blood was made to course more rapidly through her veins 
in response to a warm and noble sentiment. " No, in this 
I think just as you do uncle!" 

" Why, only to behold. I have at last done something 
that meets your approval. I know it from the cordial tone 
of your voice. We both have the warm feelings of youth 
such as do not belong to a superannuated uncle; you are 
conscious of this, too, for that dignified title was pro- 
nounced by you with difficulty just then; had we not better 
agree to burv that old uncle?" 

A faint smile was now apparent upon her face too. 
Nevertheless she said, putting him off, No, it must stay 
so! What would grandmamma say, too, if I were to fall 
back into the rude ways of my childhood?" 

" I should think that this were a matter between you 
and me alone." 

" Oh, no, by no means! Grandmamma will never re- 
sign her guardianship over us all while the world stands. 
I know that much!" answered she bitterly. "And you 
may esteem yourself fortunate that she did not observe 
your visit to the warehouse, for she would have been very 
angry." 

He laughed. " And what would have been the punish- 
ment for a boy of my age? Should I have been stood in 
the corner, or been "sent supperless to bed? No, Mar- 
garet," added he seriously, " however much I may strive 
to save my mother every cause for annoyance or distress, 
and make her life as easy and pleasant as I can, yet I can 
not allow her to decidedly influence my actions. And so, 
you will often see me come out of the warehouse." 

She looked up at him brightly. " Had a doubt previ- 
ously crept into my soul, it would have vanished before 
(our calm judgment pronounced! That old painter, whom 
have loved from childhood up, can not be our enemy!" 

" Who says so?" 

" Grandmamma. Is it true that he institutes claims 
against Reynold and myself?" 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 227 

" Yes, Margaret, it is true/' assented he gravely. " He 
has much to ask of you. Would you yield what he de- 
mands without protest?" 

" How could I do otherwise if the claim were a just 
one?" answered she unhesitatingly; but the flush of a sud- 
den surprise passed over her face. 

" Although this claim should considerably diminish your 
heritage?" 

She smiled slightly. " Hitherto I have always been pro- 
vided for by others, and hence have little understanding of 
money's real value; but this much I know, that I would a 
thousand times rather earn my bread as a seamstress than 
keep even a penny that did not belong to me. I know, 
too, that you would countenance no unjust claim; and 
therefore I am ready for any sacrifice!" 

" Brave little girl, that lias her foot in the stirrup forth- 
with, at the bare mention of a good deed to be done!" 

Her countenance was overshadowed. 

" A badly chosen simile fcr one who does not know how 
to ride," remarked she, coolly, at the same time shrugging 
her shoulders. " The fashionable world plays in all your 
thoughts, uncle!" 

He restrained a smile. " What would you have? No 
one can easily withdraw himself entirely from the spell of 
the sphere in which he lives a great deal. Would you 
have been the ardent lover of liberty, or glowing advocate 
of a proud, independent citizenship if you had not lived in 
Uncle Theobald's house? I hardly believe so." 

" You are mistaken. That is something not got by 
assimilation, but ingrain with me. It must have been a 
property of my blood, my soul, without the stimulus of out- 
side influence, just as they say" here a stroke of her old 
wilfullness was apparent " that Raphael would have been 
a great painter, even if he had come into the world without 
hands." But she speedily resumed her gravity and went 
back to the subject of Herbert's communication. " Upon 
what right does Mr. May base his claims?" asked she, with- 
out circumlocution. " To what extent is he our creditor?" 

" You will have to be patient for a short while," an- 
swered he, with hesitation; and his eyes scanned her face 
curiously, as though he doubted whether or not he should 
speak even now. 

" Ah, that is most likely my guardian's affair?" asked 



228 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

she, with apparent indifference; but her cheeks flushed and 
her voice had a sharp intonation. 

" You have 110 guardian yet," returned he, smiling 
softly. 

" Certainly not beforehand; you would not accept the 
position." 

" And has that, too, been reported to you? Why, yes, I 
did decline it decidedly, because every aimless thing is re- 
pugnant to my soul." 

" Aimless! Then grandmamma is right when she says 
that you decline this office because nothing can be done 
with one so self-willed as myself." 

" Why, supposing that reason were put to the test; you 
are bad enough!" He gave her a roguish side glance. 
" Meanwhile, I should not be afraid; I should know how 
to get the mastery of this stubborn will. But I have 
another reason, which I shall very shortly explain to you." 

They were interrupted by the entrance of an upholsterer. 

Herbert wanted a new carpet put down for his father, 
and the man had come to measure the floor for it. While 
Herbert was giving him directions, Margaret slipped out of 
the room. 

" Yes, Nettie, you're right; it is a sin and a shame!" 
said Barbara to the house-maid with a sigh, as Margaret 
went by the open kitchen door to the drawing-room. The 
old cook was rolling out dough upon the pastry-board. 
" Yes, it is too bad that this man in our house here will 
not let a finger be lifted to help those poor people over 
yonder!" She grew warm. "What would there not be 
to pay if I should carry over a bowl of noodle soup to the 
old man and the child? But, Lord ha' mercy! I would 
not like to try it! That fellow in the counting-room would 
cut a body's head off!" She angrily strewed a handful of 
flour over the broad surface of the pastry. " Yes, and the 
old lady must be badly off, for the nurse came again to the 
fountain for ice very early this morning, and I've seen the 
doctor go in twice to-day. Mark my word, Nettie, the 
lady is dying! She's dying! My kettles have not sung 
when they boiled for ages, as they have been doing all the 
morning long; that always means death in the house 
always!" 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 228 



CHAPTER XXII. 

NEXT day there was a great stir on the first floor. 
Upholsterers, white washers, and stove-cleaners came and 
went; and from early in the morning Margaret had been 
closely engaged. And this was well, because no time was 
left her for puzzling over things that had already robbed 
her of her night's rest. She had lain almost the whole 
night with wide-open eyes, and fierce had been the storms 
that raged in heart and head. 

The portraits were to be restored to their old places in 
the red parlor. For the first time, again, since the wax 
candles had burned beside the dead in the front hall, Aunt 
Sophie unlocked the passage behind Mrs. Dorothy's death- 
chamber, and Margaret followed her with a oloth and dust- 
ing-brush; she wanted to see to the cleaning of the pictures 
herself. 

A thrill of awe crept over her as she approached the dark 
passage; it had become dismal to her, yes, frightfully dis- 
mal. Her father's mysterious behavior on that afternoon 
when he had locked himself up in the fair Dorothea's 
chamber, his enigmatical hints on that stormy night, and 
the horrible walk that she had herself taken over those 
creaking old boards, and the warehouse garret, until she 
came to the corpse of the newly dead all this rushed back 
upon her mind with a fresh thrill of renewed grief. 

She stepped along as timidly as though the sound of her 
footsteps might arouse those forms ranged along the wall, 
and reanimate them until they should proclaim aloud all 
the secrets which they had carried with them to the grave. 

The pretty Dora still had her face turned to the wall in 
the corner by the wardrobe, where the deceased had shoved 
it; the storm had not damaged it. Doubly touching and 
engaging did that striking countenance look after she had 
wiped the dust off of so many commonplace, meaningless 
faces. She knelt before the picture a few seconds, and 
wondered what of great crime those lustrous eyes and rosy 
lips could have been guilty to warrant such an outburst of 
hatred as had come from her father that fatal day after 
she had been dead, too, some hundreds of years. 



230 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

But Frederick, the house servant, had said down-stairs, 
after he had come out of the red parlor and cast a shy 
glance into the dark passage, " Our young lady is kneeling 
down before her with the rubies! If she only knew what I 
know ! That lady must have been a very satan in her life- 
time, not to be allowed to have a bit of rest in her frame. 
That godless picture belongs of right to the fire-place in the 
garret. I say, then, for aught I care, she may wander 
around without a frame as much as she chooses." 

But that picture was not taken to the garret. Margaret, 
with the upholsterer's help, hung it herself in its old place. 
Then she went down into her own snug sitting-room to 
warm herself. 

She seated herself at the window, and looked out into the 
snow-covered yard. The temperature had moderated some- 
what; here and there balls of loosened snow fell from the 
boughs of the linden trees; finks, torn-tits, and sparrows 
sported about on the feeding-place that had been cleared 
for them, and the tame pigeons, too, came down and helped 
to pick up the bountifully scattered grains of corn. 

But suddenly the whole company of birds flew up in 
alarm. Somebody must have come into the court-yard 
from the warehouse. Margaret bent over the window-seat 
and caught sight of little Max, as, with anxiously search- 
ing eyes fixed upon the kitchen windows, he came directly 
toward the great house, stamping through the snow. 

The young lady started in affright. If Eeynold should 
notice the boy then there would be a storm. She opened 
the window, and with a half-suppressed voice called the 
child to come to her. He came across directly, and pulled 
off his little cap, when she saw tears in his eyes. 

" Grandmamma wants to be turned in bed, and grand- 
papa can not lift her by himself," said he hurriedly. 
" The nurse has gone away. I have looked for her every- 
where, running all over town after her; but I can not find 
her. Now we have nobody! Ah, but it is too bad! And 
then I thought that good Barbara ; 

" Just go and tell grandpapa help shall be forthcoming 
directly/' whispered Margaret down to him, quickly clos- 
ing the window. 

The little fellow ran home as straight as an arrow; and 
Margaret, packing up her white burnoose, went to the draw- 
ing-room. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 231 

Aunt Sophie was just on the point of going out. 
The young girl told her as she moved along, that instant 
help was wanted at the warehouse, and finally told her, " I 
know, now, how I can get there unperceived; through the 
passage and the warehouse garret! Have you in your keep- 
ing the key to the chamber on the roof ?" 

Her aunt handed her a new ring from the hook. 
" There, Gretchen, in God's name go!" 

Margaret flew up the steps, not without casting an anx- 
ious side-glance at the counting-room window, but the cur- 
tain hung motionless behind the panes of glass. It was 
quiet and deserted in the entrance; and, as awhile ago, not 
a single face was at the windows looking out upon the 
court-yard, and up in the red parlor the upholsterers were 
still busy laying down the carpet. 

She slipped through the entrance and the still open pas- 
sage door; the new lock of the chamber on the roof was 
quickly opened, and no obstruction came in her way as she 
traversed the whole garret, every door standing open, even 
the one leading down-stairs. 

With a deep sigh of relief Margaret found herself in the 
warehouse sitting-room. Nobody was in there; but from 
the adjoining kitchen, the door to which was only slightly 
ajar, came a little noise. The young lady opened the door 
further and looked into the room, which was filled with the 
odor of cookery. 

The painter stood on the hearth, and was just trying to 
pour broth from the smoking stew-pan into a cup. He 
had pushed his spectacles up on his forehead, and was 
making a wry face; the unaccustomed occupation of cook- 
ing seemed to occasion him much trouble and perplexity. 

" I want to help you," said Margaret, while she closed 
the kitchen door behind her. 

He looked up. " Dear me, Miss Lambert, you have not 
come yourself?" cried he, with joyful surprise. " Max 
played me the trick of seeking aid at your house without 
my knowing anything about it; he is such a resolute little 
fellow that he never will come home until he has accom- 
plished his errand." 

" He did right, like a good boy!" said the young lady. 
So saying, she took the stew-pan from the old man's hand 
and poured the broth through the strainer which the in' 
experienced cook had forgotten to do into the cup. 



232 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

" That is the first strong nourishment that my wife has 
ventured to taste," said he with a happy smile. " God be 
thanked, she is much better! She can speak again; and 
the doctor hopes for the best." 

" But will it not hurt her if an unfamiliar face like mine 
is suddenly presented to her?" asked Margaret, solicitously. 

" I'll prepare her." He took the cup and carried it 
through the sitting-room into the adjoining chamber. 

Margaret stayed behind. She did not need to wait long. 
" Where is she the good, kind young lady?" she heard 
the patient ask eagerly. " Let her come in! Ah, how it 
cheers and comforts me!" 

The young lady stood at the threshold, and Mrs. May 
stretched out her well arm to her. Her face was as white 
as the sheet on which she lay, but her eyes shone with full 
intelligence. 

" White and pure as a dove, she comes on her errand 
of peace," said she, with emotion. " Ah, yes! she used 
to be so fond of wearing white, she who went away from 
us, never to return!" 

" Don't speak of it, Nannie!" exhorted her husband, 
uneasily. " You were longing so just now to be moved to 
a more comfortable couch, and therefore Miss Lambert has 
come, as I have already told you. She will help me to 
move you to another bed." 

" On! thank you. I am lying well now, and although 
I had my couch on nettles, I believe I should not feel them 
any longer. I feel so nicely now! The sight of that dear 
young face refreshes me. Yes; I, too, had a daughter, 
young and beautiful, like an angel, too, in goodness; but I 
was, may be, too proud of this gift of God, and, there- 
fore " 

" But, Nannie," interrupted the old man, in visible dis- 
tress, " you ought not to talk so much. And Miss Lam- 
bert will have to shorten her visit." 

" Do please let me talk!" cried she, violently excited. 
" A stone lies on my breast, and it must be lifted by giv- 
ing utterance to my feelings." She drew a long, deep 
breath. " Can you not see how it is, that an unfortunate 
mother wants to enjoy once more the mournful pleasure of 
talking once more about her dead darling? Do not be un- 
easy, Ernest, you dear, true heart!" added she, more qui- 
etly. " Did not Mr. Herbert's visit yesterday do me a 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 233 

great deal of good? I could not, indeed, see or converse 
with him ; but I heard all that he had to say on that sub- 
ject. He, noble gentleman that he is, believes in us, and 
every kind word that he spoke brought health to me." 

She pointed to a porcelain miniature in oval form that 
hung over her bed. " Do you recognize that?" asked she, 
?,nd her glance was fixed almost consumingly upon the 
young lady. 

Margaret came nearer. Yes; she knew those dewy lips, 
those deep, blue eyes, and the golden glory of a wealth of 
hair surmounting the brow that wondrously beautiful 
head she knew it well. 

" The beautiful Blanche!" said she, with feeling. " I 
have never forgotten her. That night, when Mr. May 
brought me home in his arms, her hair, that falls over her 
breast in plaits, in the picture, floated over her shoulders 
and down her back, like a glittering veil of gold." 

*' That evening," said the patient, sighing, "yes; that 
evening, when she had fled into the darkness with her 
poor, storm-tossed spirit. Oh, her unsuspecting parents! 
Alas! for the blind mother, who did not understand how 
to protect her child!" 

* Nannie!" 

The old lady paid no heed to her husband's exclamation 
and deprecating looks. 

" Go, my dear child," said she, turning to little Max, 
who sat at the foot of her bed; " go into the kitchen to 
Philine. Do you not hear her whimpering? She wants to 
come in, and the doctor has forbidden it." 

The boy rose obediently, and left the room. 

" Isn't he a sweet, good child?" asked the sick woman, 
tears sparkling in her eyes. " Could any father help being 
proud of such a precious gift from Heaven? Oh! and he 
can he be a partaker of heavenly bliss, having taken his 
son's honor and happiness for life into the grave with 
him?" 

" Please, dear wife, do not talk any more, just for this 
day!" pleaded the old man, most urgently. He trembled 
visibly in every limb. " I shall have to beg Miss Lambert 
to postpone the rest of her visit until to-morrow, when you 
will be stronger and quieter." 

The patient silently but energetically shook her head, 
and grasped Margaret's liand, saying: 



234 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES 

" Do you mind what I said to you when you assured me 
that you loved our Max, and would keep an eye upon his 
course of life?" 

Margaret pressed her hand gently and soothingly. 

" You said that many a time altered relations suddenly 
changed a person's views of things, and who could tell if 
in four weeks' time, I would be of the same opinion as I 
was then. Now, then, the relations between us have 
changed already, I am told; to what extent, I have not yet 
been informed. Meanwhile, let them be of whatever nat- 
ure they will, what has this change to do with my partiali- 
ty for the child? Will he become any the less amiable 
thereby? But now let me, too, urgently add my entreaties 
that you talk no more at present. I'll come to you any 
day, and you may tell me all that can lighten your heart." 

The old lady smiled bitterly. 

" This very day, perhaps, you will be prohibited from 
ever again visiting this hated family." 

"I go by a way that does not exist for others. I came 
to-day through your garret." 

The eyes of the patient opened wide in painful excite- 
ment. 

" That unlucky way, into which my poor lamb was en- 
ticed?" cried she, passionately. " Ah, yes! she went 
away over my head; and the mother who would have given 
her heart's blood to preserve the purity of her child's soul, 
remained blind and deaf, sleeping, as did the foolish vir- 
gins in the Bible. I have never trodden it, that fatal path 
through which the white lady of your house is said to walk; 
but I know that a curse rests upon it, and she, my idol, 
went that way to destruction! Do not go that way again." 

" I shall not be deterred, because I go in the discharge 
of neighborly duty," said Margaret, with unsteady voice 
and laboring breath. 

She felt as though she were suddenly gazing into a deep, 
mysterious pool whence gradually emerged familiar out- 
lines. 

" Yes; you are good and pitying as an angel, but must 
be limited by human possibilities, with all your good will," 
cried the sick woman, while she lifted herself upon her pil- 
low by a mighty exertion. " You, too, will finally con- 
demn us, if you hear that we have made claims without 
being able to substantiate them with proofs. Dreadful to 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. $35 

think of, there is only one ray of light in all this Egyptian 
darkness. We shall be driven out of doors, and Blanche's 
son will not know where to lay his head he for whom she 
gave her young life 1 /' 

With perfectly colorless lips, Margaret seized the old 
lady's hand. 

" Not these half hints," implored she, with difficulty 
mastering her own fearful excitement, which was great 
enough to make her heart beat tumultuously, and almost 
entirely deprive her of breath. " Tel^ me plainly what 
burdens your heart? You shall find me composed, what- 
ever may be the nature of those revelations." 

The old painter hurriedly bowed over the sick woman, 
and whispered a few words in her ear. 

" She is not to learn it yet ?" asked she, turning her 
head away indignantly. " And why not? Would they 
wait until you have returned from London, and if with 
empty hands, then let it remain forever in oblivion? No; 
she shall know at least that it is a rightful heir who is 
thrust out of his father's house, because he can produce no 
written proof. Max is just as truly your brother as that 
cold, stern man in the counting-room," said she to the 
young lady with inexorable determination. " For one 
brief year, Blanche was your step-mother; she was your de- 
ceased father's second wife." 

Exhausted, her head fell back upon her pillow, but Mar- 
garet stood for an instant, as though turned to stone. It 
was less the sudden blunt statement of the fact named than 
the broad light thus thrown upon a whole chain of hitherto 
mysterious precedents. 

Yes, this secret marriage it had been which cast such a 
dark shadow over the last years of her father's life! She 
now knew that he had tenderly loved this son of a second 
marriage, and yet had not found courage to acknowledge 
him. But she knew, too, that in the awful moment, when 
he supposed that this darling child lay crushed beneath 
the toppling ruins, he had firmly resolved to invest him 
with all his rights. 

" To-morrow," he had said, pointing to her grandmam- 
ma's suite of rooms, " there will arise a storm up there, 
as wild as the one now shaking our old house to its very 
foundations." 

Yes, he had had sufficient reasons for anticipating vio- 



236 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

lent scenes there. Now, death had spared him this collis- 
ion with the prejudices of the so greatly dreaded polite 
world, but at what a price! 

" You have no written proof s in hand; said you not so?" 
asked she, with half -stifled voice. 

" None," answered the old painter, despondently; and 
bitter disappointment was expressed in the glance, which he 
cast upon the young lady upon hearing the young lady's 
question; " at least, none valid in law. The deceased took 
possession of these jat the time of my daughter's death; but 
they are not to be found among his effects; they have track- 
lessly vanished." 

" They must and shall be found," said she, firmly. 

So saying, she went to the kitchen, and came in im- 
mediately afterward, leading little Max by the hand. 

" He shall always be to me a dear brother," said she, 
feelingly, while she flung her right arm around the boy, 
and laid her left hand protectingly upon his curly head. 
" The child is a legacy to me from my father a precious 
one. No one had an insight into the secret of his later life; 
only toward the last, he did give his eldest some hints of 
it. They were indeed enigmas for me, but now I know 
the solution. Had rny father lived two days longer, then 
long since this poor orphan would have borne our name. 
But I shall not rest, until his last expressed will has been 
carried out, for I know that it lay heavy upon his conscience 
before his death. No, say no more!" cried she stretch- 
ing out her hand in a deprecatory manner to the sick wom- 
an, who wanted evidently to express the happiness she felt. 
" You must rest now! Come, Max, grandmamma must 
sleep so that she will soon be well again!" 

The boy nodded and stroked his grandmother's hand. He 
again took his place at the foot of the bed, while the young 
lady, followed by Mr. May, went into the sitting-room. 
Here in the deep bay-window he communicated further 
particulars concerning her father's connection with his 
family, and during the recital his listener wept. The 
nervous shock had been terrific, all the more because Mar- 
garet felt that she must control her own feelings for the 
sake of Mrs. May; but now came the reaction, and the tears 
that give relief could no longer be restrained. 

Before she left, once more she glanced into the sleeping- 
room. Little Max pointed to the patient and laid his fin- 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 287 

ger on his lips; she seemed to be sleeping sweet and sound- 
ly: the burden had been lifted from her soul to be rolled 
upon younger, stronger shoulders. 

A few minutes later Margaret went up the garret steps 
leading to the warehouse. She walked as in a dream, but 
in a troubled one. Not much more than a half hour had 
elapsed since she had unsuspectingly slipped down those 
stairs, but what an entire revolution had this half hour 
effected in the tenor of her thoughts! Now it had become 
clear to her why papa had appealed to her strength and 
confidence! He had accused himself of a miserable weak- 
ness; yes, this weakness, this dread of falling under the ban 
of polite society on account of his second marriage tnis it 
was that had poisoned life for him ! 

Involuntarily she paused and looked across at the great 
house. A cutting wind whistled through the open luthern, 
and glittering icicles, like dragon teeth, studded its small 
round arch. Margaret shuddered, but not from the winter's 
cold, that did but cool pleasantly her glowing face ; there 
rose up before her soul in vision the battles that had to 
be fought in that old house, until the right should tri- 
umph and the youngest-born be permitted access to his 
paternal mansion. And was not the sick woman right? 
Was not this handsome, vigorous boy a very Godsend to 
the house of Lambert, now reduced to such a miserable rep- 
resentative? But what cared the haughty, cold-hearted old 
lady in the upper stoiy for the assured continuance of that 
dear old firm? That child was the grandson of those 
despicable " painter-people," and that sufficed to infuriate 
and spur her on to postpone as long as possible the recog- 
nition of the orphan. And Eeynold, the grasping mer- 
chant, who had laid both hands firmly on his inherited 
money-chests, most certainly would not give out a penny, 
without the most violent opposition. 

She pursued her way over the garret-planks, that groaned 
beneath her tread. Ah, yes, not merely the rough soles of 
the packers' shoes had passed that way, but the winged 
feet of a maiden had lightly touched those rough-hewn 
planks, " a white dove " had once flown in and out. As 
this thought flashed upon her she blushed deeply and 
buried her face in her hands; then she advanced more 
quickly to the door, that led to that unfortunate passage; 



238 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

she did not, indeed, suspect that mischief was lurking even 
now behind that door. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

IN the front hall, meanwhile, an exciting scene had been 
enacted. Barbara had carried up some refreshments to 
the upholsterers, and after a brief conversation with the 
men had opened the door, to leave the red parlor; but the 
leaves of the door had immediately flown to again and the 
old cook had tumbled back into the room with a shriek. 
At first she had not been able to utter a word; with her 
hands pointing to the door, she had dropped into the 
nearest chair, and thrown her apron over her head. But 
outside there was positively nothing peculiar to be found, 
as one of the workmen affirmed who had gone out to see 
what could have so startled the robust old woman. 

" You may well believe, not all see it! Ah, it is my 
death I" Barbara had stammered out underneath her 
apron. Then she had tried to stand up, but found her 
limbs so weak and tremulous that she had to sit down 
again. Only quite gradually had she let her apron drop, 
and timidly looked around, when the healthy glow upon 
her sunburned face was seen to have changed to an ashy 
pallor. But she had grown quiet; those were strange folks, 
those men, in whose presence one must be mum, else they 
would blab, and in a few hours the whole town know what 
had happened at the Lamberts' ! 

Happily the workmen were soon through with their task, 
so that she did not have to go alone through that long 
front hall. She had gone along with two of the appren- 
tices, had not looked to the right or the left, and had finally 
slunk into her kitchen. Yes "slunk" the house-serv- 
ant had called it, coining along like a ghost, until she had 
dropped down helplessly upon the settle. But now the 
doors of her lips were unclosed. Now, she too had seen 
" her with the rubies," and now let anybody come who 
chose, and dispute what she had seen with her own eyes! 
Just let them come. 

And the man-servant with old Nettie were listening with 
wide-open mouths, the coachman, too, had just come up 
at the minute when Frederick had asked, " Was she in 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 239 

that grass-green dress with the long train, like that time 
when I saw her once?" 

Now came up a clerk from the counting-room, to ask 
for a glass of sugar-water for the young master. 

" Oh bless me, not green!" Barbara had gasped, shak- 
ing her head energetically. " Something white, snow- 
white, flew around the corner of the passage! Exactly as 
she must have lain in her coffin." And hereupon she 
launched into a description that even made the -Jerk's hair 
stand on end. 

Through him the news of what had happened was con- 
veyed to the counting-room, lieynold had been much in- 
censed at the young man's long delay, who accordingly 
excused himself on account of the uproar in the kitchen. 

Immediately afterward the young gentleman had come 
over, wrapped up in a heavy great-coat, and with his warm 
otter-cap upon his head. " You are to go with me right 
away, and show me the spot where you report yourself to 
have seen the white lady!" was his stern address to the old 
cook, who was still trembling in every limb. " I'll see if 
we can not come to the bottom of this ghost-seeing. You 
cowards are bringing my house more and more into disre- 
pute; how am I to get lodgers if hereafter I want to let out 
all the superfluous rooms in the house? On, Barbara! 
You know I'll stand no fooling!" 

And not a word of objection crossed poor old Barbara's 
quivering lips. She followed him with quaking knees up 
the steps and along the front hall; her horrified start at 
the corner of the passage did not help her at all; he had 
only seized her by the arm and thrust her along by those 
ghastly, staring portraits, until she came to the little side 
staircase leading to the warehouse garret. 

But here he had suddenly bounded forward like mad, 
and when he again looked toward Barbara his big, stony 
gray eyes were full of life, sparkling like those of a mis- 
chievous cat. 

" Now, march down to your kitchen again," he had 
ordered her with a malicious grin, and tell those other 
cowards that a ghost can not be very dangerous that carries 
a full basket of preserves upon its arm ! But first go up 
and ask my grandmother to be so good as to come into the 
red parlor." 

Barbara had beaten a retreat as speedily as possible. 



540 THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 

But a suspicion had dawned upon her mind that gave her 
a most uncomfortable sensation of having committed a 
foolish blunder. And upon Aunt Sophie's soon afterward 
coming in from her walk, and her starting to tell her a 
few preliminaries of what had befallen her, she had only 
had time to~utter a few sentences before that lady exclaimed 
in dismay: " Oh! you unlucky Barbara!" Then she had 
begun to lament and hurried up the steps, in her bonnet 
and cloak just as she had come in from the street. 

She would have given anything to save her Gretchen a 
painful scene, or at least to moderate its violence, but she 
came too late. At the very instant that she entered the 
hall, Reynold left the red parlor accompanied by his grand- 
mother. 

She made an ironically low bow in the direction of the 
passage. " Eh, my dear Gretchen, you seem to enjoy 
masquerading as the fair Dora! Recently you had just 
stepped out of your frame in bridal array, and to-day you 
are terrifying the people in the house as the white lady. 

" Yes, as the lady with the rubies!" chimed in Reynold. 
' ' Barbara is like somebody deranged ! She caught a glimpse 
of that famous white opera-cloak darting through the pas- 
sage, and made the whole house uproarious. It must be so! 
You people down there stick together like burs, in opposi- 
tion to me, and now one betrays the other although against 
her will!" 

During this impertinent address, Margaret had turned 
the corner of the passage. She did not answer, surprise 
seemed to close her lips. 

" Traitress!" hissed Reynold at her as he advanced to- 
ward her. " You are going to take such sly ways, are you? 
Pretty lessons you have been learning out in the world!" 

" Reynold, moderate yourself!" said Margaret with quiet 
dignity, as she tried to go across to Aunt Sophie; but he 
blocked her path. "That's right, fly to your governess! 
There you have ever found help and protection." 

" You too!" put in Aunt Sophie. " Your governess I 
never was " a dry sort of smile crossed her lips. " I un- 
derstand neither French nor English any more than I do 
etiquette; but something like the trusty Eckard that is 
what I have been to you both. I have held my hands pro- 
tectingly over both your souls and bodies, as well as I 
could, and used my little strength in your service, so long 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 241 

as it was needed. And for you, Beynold, when for years 
your feeble limbs would not carry you, it was in my arms 
that you were borne about the house and yard, and into the 
open air. I never would trust you in anybody else's hands. 
Now you can run, but not to gladden others. Like a 
jailer, you run prying from door to door, not being willing 
that your fellow-creatures should ' even breathe, but as you 
please and dictate. All must dance to your tune. The old 
Lambert house has been turned into a regular penitentiary. 
And so, I think, it is high time for one to leave. I do not 
need either you or your charity; but Gretchen I'll take 
with me!" 

During the administration of his castigation the head of 
the young man had sunk even deeper into the collar of his 
furred overcoat, and his eyes aimlessly wandered over the 
walls. He remembered right well how Aunt Sophie had 
watched by his sick-bed, for weeks at a time, night after 
night, and when his appetite had failed utterly she had 
with her own hands prepared every morsel that he put into 
his mouth. Even when a boy of seven, she had lifted him 
upstairs, so that it might well be a blush of shame that was 
now mantling his sallow cheek. But Mrs. Counsellor was 
evidently enraged. 

" Do you really believe that we would let our grand- 
daughter go with you?" asked she angrily. " That is 
somewhat bold and overhasty, my dear! I fancy that the 
rich heiress will consider well before creeping into the first 
hovel that presents itself." 

Aunt Sophie smiled humorously. "It is well for the 
state that you are not commissioner of the treasury, Mrs. 
Counsellor! It really is not so bad as you imagine, else 
my name should not be Lambert! Be it observed I only 
say this to free myself from the imputation of boldness and 
precipitancy." 

Margaret stepped up to her aunt and tenderly threw her 
arm around her beloved form. 

" Grandma is mistaken," said she. " In the first place, 
I am not the rich heiress for whom she takes me, and then 
I would gladly retreat to the humblest home, if I might 
share it with you. But we two are not to leave this house 
for the present; I have a mission to fulfill, and you must 
aid me in it, aunt!" 

" One thing, Gretchen, this missionary path is to be 



24:2 THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 

henceforth closed against you. I shall have this door to 
the warehouse walled up, it serves no other end, and 
enough of this! I shall see whether I can not get some 
rest!" said Reynold, as he buttoned up his overcoat more 
tightly as though chilly and went to the outer door. Tha 
feeble stirrings of a better nature within him had already 
been smothered. " As for the rest, to put it mildly, it is an 
ungrateful thing of you to belittle your inheritance/' add- 
ed he, again turning back. " You obtain far more than 
comes to the daughter by law. Had papa made his will 
betimes as his duty to me, his successor in business re- 
quired, then the circumstances would have been very differ- 
ent; but as it is I must count out to you lots of money." 

" Yes, I too am of opinion that this great inheritance 
does not belong to me. I shall have to divide it!" said 
Margaret significantly. 

" With me again?" laughed Reynold scornfully. '* You 
can let that be ! You have no right to alienate your prop- 
erty. And I want none of your generosity, any more than 
I am minded to give away the smallest iota of what is 
mine. ' Every man for himself ' is my motto. Let me 
take this opportunity to say to you, grandma, that not a 
trace is to be found anywhere of any business contract be- 
tween my father and that man over yonder," he pointed 
toward the warehouse. " That claim which you treat so 
mysteriously, is a mere bogus one and done with so far as I 
am concerned. I want to hear no more about it. As for 
the rest, I thank you for coming down at my desire; you 
are convinced now, I suppose, of the mean, perfidious way 
in which my sister is accustomed to act." 

He went out and let the door slam to behind him. 

Margaret had turned deathly pale. 

" Don't take it to heart, Gretchen!" consoled Aunt 
Sophie. " From the time you were a little thing you have 
served him for a scape-goat! And he has thus grown up 
to be a heartless fellow, a cruel egotist." 

" Young as he is, a perfect man you mean, dear Sophie, 
a man who knows A from a bull's foot " remarked Mrs. 
Counsellor. " Margaret has nobody but herself to blame, if 
he talks badly to her. She should not have gone to see 
those people, who she knew were raising untenable claims 
against the heirs." 

" Their claims are just!" said the young girl firmly. 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 243 

" What/' burst forth from her grandmamma; " those 
wretches have been talking to the daughter about her 
deceased father, out of gratitude, I suppose, for her acting 
the good Samaritan toward them? And you believe their 
fables?" 

She clutched nervously at the cape to her cloak. " It is 
too cold for me here, Gretchen, you must go upstairs with 
me, that matter must be talked over!" 

Margaret followed her in silence while Aunt Sophie went 
down-stairs, casting an anxious look after her. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

UP in the parlor the parrot screeched and scolded upon 
Margaret's entrance; from her childhood she never could 
bear the mischievous, pampered creature, and this the par- 
rot knew right well. 

" Be pretty, my pet!" said the old lady fondly, while she 
handed the screamer a biscuit, caressing it at the same 
time. Then she slowly and deliberately took the capote 
from her lace cap, and the wrap from her shoulders, and 
laid both carefully together. 

Margaret first turned red, then pale, from excitement 
and agitation of spirit; she bit her lip, but not a word 
escaped her; she knew that affected composure; her grand- 
mamma never appeared colder and more deliberate than 
when she was inwardly boiling over with passion. 

" Well, I supposed that you had some astounding piece 
of information to give me," said the old lady to her across 
her shoulder, while she slowly put away the box in which 
she had deposited the things which she had laid off; " in- 
stead of this you station yourself at the window and gaze 
out upon the market-place as though you were counting 
the icicles on the gutters." 

" I was waiting for you to question me, grandma," an- 
swered the young girl gravely. " Would that I were tran- 
quil enough to be able to occupy myself so harmlessly as 
you suppose! But every nerve in my body is quivering." 

Her grandmother shrugged her shoulders. " You have 
nobody but yourself to blame for it, Margaret! 5Tour in- 
quisitiveness is punished. You had nothing to do with the 
warehouse. I was shocked, too, when that man came down 



24:4 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

upon us with his monstrous assertion as suddenly as a 
thunderbolt from the skies; but at my time of life one's 
head is not so easily upset, as at yours. I very quickly 
saw through the plot laid, and predicted to my son, that 
accomplished jurist, how it would turn out. The old man 
can not maintain his assertion because there is no proof of 
it whatever. He appealed to what would be found in your 
blessed father's effects; but why need I tell you all this?" 
said she, suddenly breaking off. " You have heard it 
already from the lips of your proteges, of course in the 
point of view whence they regard it, for else you would not 
just now have maintained that his claims were just." 

Margaret had glided noiselessly over the carpet and now, 
pale as a ghost from inward agitation, she stood before the 
old lady. " That those claims are just and well grounded 
I know through the lips of another, grandmamma, from 
those of my father," said she with quivering voice. 

Mrs. Counsellor recoiled. Speechless from amazement 
at the first moment, she stared at her grandchild with 
wide-open, horrified eyes. 

" Are you out of your senses?" she finally gasped forth. 
" You are not to impose upon me things that no rational 
mind can believe. Your father? Who that ever knew 
him, that sternly reticent man, who could make himself 
utterly inapproachable by a single glance of the eye, who 
could believe that he would ever have confided such a secret 
to so young a thing as you are ! No, my dear Gretchen, 
he was far from being so childish as that. You claim for 
yourself a confidence at which I should laugh if your 
blindness were not really so pitiable? Were it really then 
so fine and joyous a circumstance to know this cuckoo's 
egg to be in the Lambert nest? I implore you not to stand 
before me with such a wise and superior air, a mien that 
makes every drop of blood boil within me!" 

With the most vehement signs of displeasure she drew 
back a few steps further from the young girl, with un- 
steady fingers tied her cap-strings more tightly under her 
chin, and drew her handkerchief across her forehead. 

" Since you are so sure of your cause, and advocate it so 
energetically," she began again after a momentary 
silence, "be so good as to repeat to me, word for word, 
precisely what your father said." 

" Pardon me, grandmamma, but 1 can not!" answered 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. io 

Margaret with moistened eyes. " His confidence is a 
sanctuary that I shall never profane. Only in so far a* 
it is necessary to act for him, since he can do so no longer 
for himself, shall I without reserve refer to his last wishes. 
The very day of his death he wanted to insure to little 
brother all the rights accruing to him 

She stopped short; the old lady had burst out into an 
insulting peal of loud laughter. " Little brother!" re- 
peated she trembling from passion. " So you really have 
the face to utter such a monstrosity in your grandmother's 
presence? And you say you will not divulge what has been 
told you out of respect and filial piety, do you? I will tell 
you why your reverence overpowers you so because you 
know nothing positive! You have only here and there 
picked up a solitary mysterious hint dropped by your fa- 
ther, and now holding up these broken bits to the miracu- 
lous tale just sprung upon us it seems to fit, and you feel 
yourself called upon to let your light shine. It is a beau- 
tiful thing, too, to enter the lists publicly in behalf of the 
poor and persecuted! And cares such a sensation-seeking 
creature as you, if thereby a family should fall into dis- 
grace whose name has been respected for hundreds of 
years?" 

" ' Sensation-seeking '?" repeated Margaret with dark- 
ened brow, while she proudly tossed her head back. " I 
am sure that this hateful feature of our times has not con- 
taminated my soul as yet. I can afford to be superior to 
that accusation. And am I to believe that a man's marry- 
ing for the second time can bring dishonor upon his family?" 
She shook her head. " Dear grandmamma, do not be 
angry but you, too, are a second wife, and there are my 
ancestors as highly venerated as ever/' 

" How dare you?" said the old lady, flaring up. " How 
can you compare me with this mere adventuress? You 
but why should I allow my feeling to be worked upon?" 
Here she broke off her remarks, and drew up her pretty 
little figure in the effort to regain her lost dignity. " The 
whole story turns upon an attempt to swindle and extort 
money on the part of her parents. Who knows where that 
girl may be roaming around now?" . 

" She is dead, grandmamma! Do not speak ill of one 
dead and buried!" cried Margaret warmly. " You should 
not, at least for the sake of our family; for, deceive yourself 



246 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

as you choose, she was noue the less my father's second 
wife!" 

" Really, Gretchen? Well, then, I only ask for the docu- 
ments that prove it! Granted, that everything happened 
exactly as those people in the warehouse maintain, ;md 
you second in your incredible blindness granted that he 
was hindered by his sudden death from publicly acknowl- 
edging his secret marriage, then I say, there must have 
been found among his effects papers referring to the sub- 
ject. Nothing of all this! Not the least reference in his 
own handwriting, much less regularly signed legal proofs. 
But I will go yet further. I will even suppose that these 
documents have existed," she made a momentary pause, 
" then we are forced to the conclusion that the deceased 
himself destroyed them because he did not want the affair to 
obtain publicity. And this, I think, should induce you to 
give up the mad idea which urges you to become the exec- 
utrix of his supposed wishes. ' ' 

Margaret had started back as though she had trodden 
upon a viper. " You can not possibly mean seriously 
what you say, grandmamma. What has my father done 
to you that you should accuse him of such a mean trick? 
Ah, his procrastination, his dread of the opinion of the 
world, of the prejudices of rank, that Moloch to which is 
sacrificed the happiness of thousands, how severely are 
they punished at this moment! How has that miserable 
weakness avenged itself upon him while living, by the tort- 
ures of self-conflict. And now this end, this awful conclu- 
sion, that allowed him no expiation of his guilt on this 
earth! But I know what he wanted, God be thanked that 
I know enough to be enabled to remove such a suspicion, 
such a blot from his memory. " 

" And thereby ring the town-bell to announce this great 
scandal to all the world; that it will please you to do, 
Gretchen?" chimed in the old lady scornfully. " Oh, you 
blinded girl. But, there is the cursed idealism of the pres- 
ent which, blind and deaf, dashes itself against walls and 
barriers, asking not what it strikes against so that said 
false whim its overstrained, one-sided and sentimental 
view of the world conquers. Understand your father's 
communications in any way you like, but I stick to it, that 
he himself wished a veil to be thrown over one dark spot 
in his life. And he must have wished it for our sakes too 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 247 

I mean for the sake of the Counsellor family. We really 
had not deserved it at his hands, that, through fault of his, 
a shadow had fallen upon our noble spotless name, that 
we had become the talk of town and court just now when 
we are drawing so near to that illustrious circle ! I say, at 
any cost, old May's attempt at extortion must be kept from 
the ears of the public; this wicked world is only too glad to 
believe the worst, and a scandal once started is carried on, 
no matter if its falsity is proved a hundred times over. 
Money! You will indeed be the poorer by a few thousand 
dollars; but with this sum of indemnity the old swindler 
will clear out, and return whence unluckily he ever re- 
' moved." 

"And the child? The boy who has equal rights with 
Reynold and myself, what is to become of him?" cried 
Margaret with flashing eyes. " Is he to go forth into the 
world without that inheritance which belongs to him of 
nature and law, without the name in which he was bap- 
tized? And do you expect me to go through life with a 
monstrous lie upon my conscience? I should never be 
able again to look an honest man in the face if I should 
have to say that a great share of my fortune was stolen 
goods, that I have cheated a fellow-being out of his precious 
possession, the esteemed name of his father! And you ask 
that of me, the grandmother of the grandchild?" 

" Overstrained sentimentality! I tell you all rational 
people would demand it of you, all who value the honor 
and reputation of your house." 

" Not Herbert!" cried the young girl in passionate 
protest. 

" Herbert?" repeated Mrs. Counsellor sharply, in a tone 
of haughty surprise. " You are going back to your 
childish ways, I perceive uncle, you meant to say!" 

A quick change of color was perceptible upon the> coun- 
tenance of the person reproved. " Well then uncle!" 
said she, quickly correcting herself. " He will never, never 
attach himself to those unconscionable, rational people, 
never! I know it. He shall decide." 

" God forbid! You dare not speak to him on the sub- 
ject, until" 

" Until when, mamma?'* suddenly inquired her son 
himself, across from his own room. 



248 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

The old lady shrunk as though she had received a sudden 
blow. 

"Ah! you here, Herbert, so soon back?" stammered 
she turning around in evident confusion. " You come in 
as softly as a snow-drift!" 

" Not at all. I have come back at my usual time, and 
have been standing here in the open door a long while, 
only I could get nobody's attention." 

With these words he came over. He looked grave, even 
gloomy, and yet it seemed to the young girl as if there was 
something lightning-like in the glance with which ha 
scanned her face. 

" I should have discreetly withdrawn at once," said he, 
turning to his mother, ' ' if that passionate altercation be- 
tween you and Margaret had not concerned me too. You 
know that I have assumed the task of clearing up the mat- 
ter." 

" What, still, after you must be convinced that no legal 
evidence can be brought to bear on the case?" asked the old 
lady, trembling with anger. She shrugged her shoulders. 
" Well, in my opinion, you are applying torches to the 
illumination of a disgraceful affair; more you will not at- 
tain to! You, Hebert, I do not comprehend. It is patent 
that the papers if they ever existed, which I disbelieve, 
out and out have disappeared for good reasons. Did you 
not say yourself that you sinned greatly in reaping up this 
unpleasant action on Baldwin's part?" 

" What, do you call it a sin if I endeavor to atone for 
his wrong-doing?" stormed her son. " As for the rest, 
the question is no longer, for me, whether the offense took, 
place on the side of the deceased or not; I stand here to de- 
fend the rights of the living, of which he may not be de- 
frauded. I already know too much ever to let it happen 
that the ' unpleasant action,' as yoii call the question pend- 
ing, should forever be shrouded in darkness. Or do you 
believe that I would ever be a silent participator in a secret 
crime? Margaret expressed " 

" Do not come about me with inventions of a diseased 
fancy!" cried Mrs. Counsellor, with both hands waving 
him 'angrily back. "One thing is very plain; that to set 
sii"h a rattle-brained girl as that a-going, only the very 
slightest clew is needed for her to attach to it a whole web 
of vagaries." 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 249 

Herbert glanced furtively at the young girl. " Do not 
let her vex you, Margaret," said he. 

" What a loving, consolatory tone !" mocked his mother. 
" In time you'll become an affectionate uncle. You, who 
aover had a particle of sympathy with Fanny's eldest. Go 
on, join both together against me, the only one who keeps 
her head above water! You will not bring me over unless 
I see it down in black and white!" 

" You will see it in black and white, mamma!" said 
Harbert quietly and decidedly. " The church registers in 
London are not all burned up, too." 

"Oh! Do you, too, mean to say by that, uncle, that 
my father must have himself destroyed the papers that 
were in his hands?" cried Margaret in a sort of quiet de- 
spair. " It is not true! He did not do it! I shall defend 
him and battle against this foul suspicion so long as I have 
breath in my body. I am firmly persuaded that no jour- 
ney to London is requisite; those papers must be found 
here; we must search for them better." 

" Alas, I can not strengthen you in this delusion," re- 
turned Herbert. " All the papers that he left, even the 
ledgers, have been ransacked; not the least scrap of writ- 
ing eluding our vigilance. I have gone through the whole 
parlor floor, even all the drawers and boxes of the unused 
furniture in the company rooms." 

" In the company rooms on the parlor floor, did you 
say?" asked she, as though holding in her breath. " And 
the chambers in the side wing?" 

Herbert stared at her. " Who ever would have thoughl 
of looking there?" 

" In that haunted chamber, which has not been trodden 
by the foot of man for years past!" ejaculated Mrs. Coun- 
sellor, with a scornful laugh. " There, you see, Herbert, 
the logical working of a brain like this girl's!" 

" I saw papa go in there shortly before his death," said 
Margaret, apparently calm; but her voice trembling from 
inward agitation. 

" Then we'll go and search forthwith!" cried Herbert 
in surprise. 

She flew down-stairs to fetch the key. In a few minute? 
she returned, and together with Herbert entered the 
front hall door; but he was not alone; his mother leaned 
on his arm, muffled up in thick, warm shawls and other 



250 THE LADT WITH THE RUBIES. 

wraps. " She must be by, too/' she said, with a mocking 
glance at Margaret, " when the treasure was unearthed." 



CHAPTER XXV. 

MARGARET hurried forward in advance, and unlocked 
the chamber door. For the first time in her life she crossal 
tin's threshold and had that wonderfully painted fresco 
above her head. Everything before her was slightly tinged 
with a reddish hue; and she was met by the faint odor of 
withered flowers. The declining rays of the afternoon sun 
passed through the' red poppies on the brocade curtains: 
that retained their color right well, although dropping to 
pieces from age. This was the threshold over which the 
white lady was supposed to have glided, and as many 
ghost-seers averred, followed by the cruel, vengeful Mis- 
tress Judith; bat over this threshold, too, tripped that lit- 
tle foot in its heeled slipper from that splendid room, pass- 
ing to the warehouse garret; and the people in the house 
had been terrified, and revived the legend of the fair Dora 
still haunting the scenes of her brief, eventful life. 

Mrs. Counsellor flirted her handkerchief around on en- 
tering. " Fy, what a shocking atmosphere! And such 
clouds of dust!" cried she, quite excited, and pointing 
across at the furniture. Certainly the sheen of velvet and 
satin with the splendor of gilding and plate-glass mirrors 
was but dimly discernible through that grayish veil of 
dtist. " And you would have me believe that your father 
resorted hither in the closing days of his life?" 

Mrs. Counsellor had gathered up her skirts, and with 
visible surprise had also noticed the print of feet. Now 
she stood, stretching out her long neck behind her son and 
granddaughter, and could not conceal her nervousness. 

The key of the press turned lightly and smoothly under 
Herbert's hand, and the door sprung open. Herbert drew 
back, and the old lady uttered a feeble shriek; but over Mar- 
garet's face flitted a glorious smile of joyful surprise, dashed 
by an expression of deep sadness. " There she is!" cried 
she, as though delivered from anguish and suspense. 

Yes, that was the lovely female head as it had once ap- 
peared in its frame of green boughs! There was the lily- 
t'ko purity of complexion which had given to the maiden's 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 251 

brow a look so full of innocence there were the deep blue 
radiant eyes, over which arched those delicately penciled 
hrows! Only those rich, long plaits were missing that used 
to fall down over her neck and breast; her hair, in wavy 
curls, was knotted high above her forehead, and in the 
midst of their pale glory glittered the ruby star of the 
lovely Dora. Ah! that was the reason why these stones 
" should never more deck woman's head while he lived," 
as the deceased had declared with such passionate emotion 
the evening of that dinner company. Yes, this wife with 
the rubies had been just as much loved and lamented as 
had been that first one, the white lady haunting the Lam- 
bert house ! 

Old Justus had never married again, and had remained 
a gloomy, imbittered man up to the end of his life, like his 
descendant, the much envied Baldwin Lambert. What 
demoniacal process of soul could have induced the fair 
Blanche to array herself so exactly like her unfortunate 
predecessor, who had taken the same fatal step as herself, 
and expiated it with her life? 

An overpowering perfume escaped from the press; round 
about the picture had roses been heaped up mummy roses 
which had been left to wither here as vain sacrifices. In 
front of the portrait lay also that last little bunch which 
Margaret had seen that evening in her father's hand. 
The beautiful Blanche must have loved devotedly roses and 
.the perfume of roses. 

" Well, that picture proves nothing yet!" cried Mrs. 
Counsellor, with vibrating voice, breaking in upon that 
silence which was born of surprise and emotion. " It will 
turn out as I told you, Herbert! Nothing is proved but 
that the weakling fell, for a time, into the snares of that 
coquette." 

Without replying, Herbert pulled at one of the little 
sliding drawers, but it did not yield. 

" The press is probably constructed like one in Aunt 
Sophie's desk in her sitting-room," said Margaret. She 
put her hand inside the press and touched a small wooden 
.mob; with this one push all the drawers on the left side 
sprung open at once. 

In the lower drawers were many modern pieces of jew- 
elry mixed up with lively colored ribbons (probably mere 
relics for the desolate man), but then came a row of drawer* 



252 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

all filled with papers. Margaret heard how suddenly her 
grandmamma's breath stood still as she stood close behind 
her. She could also see the fine profile of her aged face 
over her shoulder, and it was perfectly colorless, while her 
eyes fairly looked through and through the contents of the 
drawers. Its contents consisted merely of a few packets of 
letters tied up with black ribbon; but on top lay a single 
envelope inscribed by the hand of Baldwin Lambert: 

" Documents relating to my second marriage," read 
Herbert aloud. 

Mrs. Counsellor uttered a shriek of dismay. " So, 
then!" cried she, clasping her hands together. 

" Grandmamma, be pitiful!" implored Margaret, fer- 
vently pleading. 

" It needs no pity, Margaret," said Herbert, frowning. 
" I can not understand, mamma, how you could wish these 
proofs to have been lacking. The boy's manifest rights 
could have been made clear as sunlight without these 
papers, and the world would have been obliged to find out 
in a short time that a son existed born of a second mar- 
riage. The finding of this document has only value in so 
far as that it has proved to us, his nearest of kin, that 
Baldwin never meant to impugn the honor of his dead wife 
and child for fear of incurring the anathema of fashionable 
society." 

" I knew that!" cried Margaret, with beaming eyes. 
" Now I am satisfied!" 

"Not so I!" stormed the old lady. "This scandal 
poisons the last years of my life. Shame upon him for 
having let us play so shocking a farce ! I have sung his 
praises at court as much as I could. He has to thank me 
for the esteem in which he was held by our sovereigns me 
alone. How they will laugh and jeer at that silly old Mrs. 
Counsellor who su simply went about introducing old 
May's son-in-law into the highest circles! I shall never 
get over it! I shall never dare show my face again at 
court! Oh! what would I give if I had never condescend- 
ed to ally myself with such a shop-keeping concern! Now 
they will point the finger of scorn at this house; and we, 
the Counsellors, who live here, and you, Herbert, the high- 
est civil officer of this city. Now do, pray, Herbert, any- 
thing but that cool, satisfied air!" interposed she with 
great impatience. " This tranquillity may cost you dearl 



j THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 25S 

For you, too, this shameful story may have its possible con- 
sequences that " 

" I shall know how to stand, mamma/' remarked he 
with immovable composure. " Baldwin 

" Hush! If you have a spark of filial affection left in 
you, do not call that name! I will not hear it again; by 
not one sound shall I be reminded of him who has cheated 
and deceived us, that perjurer." 

" Stop there!" cried Herbert, while he protectingly 
threw his arm around Margaret, who supported herself on 
a table, pale ae death, and trembling. The veins in his 
forehead were swollen. " Not a step further, mother!" 
he protested vehemently, and yet with a tone of wounded 
feeling. " If you can speak so harshly and selfishly against 
Baldwin, in the presence of" his orphaned daughter, too, I 
must stand by her. I shall not suffer a single evil word to 
drop under which she must suffer in addition to the load 
she already bears through natural grief! But you shall 
not calumniate Baldwin further, on his own account. 
True, he has been weak, and his unmanly vacillation is in- 
comprehensible to me; but there are circumstances that 
excuse his mode of action. You yourself, at this minute, 
prove incontestably what storms would have raged around 
him if, in a manly fashion, he had spoken candidly at the 
right time. He allowed himself to be enticed through his 
ambition to become the center of attraction to an exclusive 
circle; step by step he became more closely entangled in a 
network of the most unnatural contradictions; and I tell 
you and all those that think like you, mamma, that it take? 
a great deal of courage for a man suddenly to rise up and 
rid himself of all those prejudices imbibed, and follow the 
natural impulses of his heart. This case in our own fam- 
ily should open your eyes and show you whither lead these 
contracted views, this denial of nature, and the sound, true 
sensibilities of the human heart, viz., to secret, enervating 
torture of the soul, to lying and deceit, and often even to 
crime. A part of Baldwin's guilt lies at the door of the 
present company, the reproach of acting a farce attaches 
not solely to him!" 

Mrs. Counsellor had moved further and further away 
from Herbert while he was speaking; it seemed as though 
she would voluntarily widen the chasm which suddenly 
yawned between mother and son through contrast of views. 



&>"4 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

With firmly compressed lips slie walked to the door; there 
she once more turned around. 

" To all that you have just said to me of course I have 
not a word to say in reply/' called she back into the room, 
with quivering voice. " I should think my principles have 
carried me so far right comfortably through the world 
they are the best part of me my pride, and with them I 
stand and fall! But look ahead yourself! This ogling 
with that absurd modern liberalism will never, never do in 
your position! Yet why do I talk? I have entirely too 
much tact to pretend to be your adviser. Out at Prince's 
Court and in the presence of our most gracious sovereigns, 
you will take good heed not to air such sentiments as 
those." 

" With the ladies at Prince's Court I never discuss poli- 
tics; but the duke knows my opinions thoroughly. I have 
never left him in any doubt as to their nature," answered 
Herbert with perfect quietness. 

She said nothing more. With an incredulous laugh she 
crossed the threshold and shut the door behind her. 

Margaret, meanwhile, had withdrawn into the nearest 
window recess; as quickly as possible she had released her- 
self from the supporting arms. 

" You have quarrelled with her on our account," 
lamented she with painfully quivering lips. 

" You need not lay it to heart so/' replied he, still 
struggling with the excitement which had so recently taken 
possession of him. " Make yourself quite easy," added he, 
soothingly. " The breach will heal again. My mother 
will think better of it; she will remember that I have 
always been a good son to her, if I do insist upon taking 
my own views of life." 

\ He began to examine the documents, and put them in 
: his pocket. 

" I am now going to the warehouse/' said he. " Every 
delay is a sin against those old people. It is an errand 
such as all good people must envy me! But, one thing 
more: Are you perfectly clear as to how it will be if a third 
party steps in to share equally in rights hitherto restricted 
to 'these only two.' If that boy from the warehouse 
should suddenly turn out to belong to those who look down 
from the walls of your house, and of whom you are so 
proud? You have to-day worked with all your might to 



THE LADY WITH THE BUSIES. 255 

have the matter cleared up in order to remove an injurious 
suspicion from your father's memory." 

*' Certainly! But at the same time I was contending 
for my little brother's rights. He shall be a thousand 
times welcome for me. I shall receive him with open 
arms! He will give enhanced value to my existence. I 
shall have to think and care for him. I shall guard him 
as a jewel intrusted to me by my father. And such a task 
makes life worth living!" 

" Are you so poor in hopes for your own young life, Mar- 
garet?" 

A look of deep sorrow met his gaze. 

" I do not need your pity. Nobody needs be pitied who 
knows how to accommodate himself to his fate," answered 
she, stiffly. 

" Well, then, God forbid that this fine pedestal on which 
you are enthroned may not crumble away beneath your 
feet!" A soft smile stole across his lips; she did not ob- 
serve it, for she was looking away over her shoulder out 
into the court-yard. " But God forbid that I should vex 
you! We have kept the step together so finely to-day, who 
knows what the morning may bring us! So, there, give 
me your hand; let us be friends!" 

He held out his right hand to her, and she laid hers in 
it without pressure, without the slightest movement even 
of the finger-tips. 

" Whew? how cold, how insultingly cold! Well, an old 
uncle must keep his temper, else where's the use of bearing 
a burden of years and dignity!" added he with good humor, 
letting her hand drop. 

He pushed the wooden slide back in its old place, locked 
up the press, and put the key in his pocket. 

"I shall have to ask you to lend me the key of the door again 
shortly," said he. "I am sure that the desk contains 
many a thing that will aid in the administration of your 
father's estate. And now, do not stay here any longer, 
Margaret. I have been made to feel that you are chilled 
to the very heart." 

Immediately afterward he had left the room. But Mar- 
garet did not leave yet awhile. She stood in the window 
corner and looked out across the court-yard. She was not 
chilly at all; the coldness of the room pleasantly cooled her 
throbbing temples. , < 



256 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

Down by the fountain stood Barbara letting the water 
run into her brightly scoured bucket. The superstitious 
old woman had as yet no idea that the part of her " lady 
with the rubies" was played out forever. Yes, now the 
riddle was solved that had for years been casting its 
shadowy meshes around the Lambert house! 

Margaret looked across at the linden-trees laden now with 
snow. Just there had once sat " a little wild romp," and 
had that " vision " so called of the pure white forehead 
between the bright silk window curtains. And now she 
herself stood up there and knew that it had been the lovely 
Blanche, who, enveloped in a veil, had masqueraded as the 
white lady. What a magic had been exercised by that 
young girl's beauty, who, breathing an atmosphere of roses, 
had held captive at her feet a grave, elderly, dignified man 
like her father. 

Beside him, at that time, the overgrown school-boy with 
his rosy cheeks, had not been able to stand. But now how 
different. Oh! how different! He was the one much 
sought after who could aspire to so proud a beauty as the 
duke's niece. Margaret started back, for there he came 
across the court-yard, going directly to the warehouse. 

He waved his* hand at her in token of greeting. Bar- 
bara's head turned; the bucket slipped from her hands, 
and the dispersed water streamed over the protecting 
wooden cover of the fountain basin. The old cook stood 
as though turned to a pillar of salt under that haunted 
window, whence looked down upon her that young creat- 
ure of flesh and blood. 

Margaret drew back and closed the curtains. Once 
more reigned that twilight which gave the walls a pink 
hue, and breathed a mysterious life into the Cupids sport- 
ing on the frescoed ceiling. Those chubby-cheeked curly- 
haired little urchins up there had at different times looked 
down as mischievously upon two beautiful ladies of the 
Lambert house as they did to-day from amid their garlands 
of flowers and fleecy clouds, peeping down at that mourn- 
ful, deeply agitated maiden. The dark-haired lady had 
here closed the dream of her life, while the golden-haired 
girl had only begun hers. Both had been called to die 
early. A year one year of brief happiness had been al- 
lotted to them; but was not this span equal to a whole life- 
time of renunciation? 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 257 

The young girl doubled up her fist and clinched her 
teeth; were they here again > those tormenting thoughts 
and feelings, with which she was holding mortal conflict? 
She had boasted that her best helper would be her head ; 
and she must stand up to her word if she perished in so 
doing. She was now to undertake new duties; would not 
the punctual performance of duty suffice to make life worth 
living? Was there any necessity for such a superabun- 
dance of happiness? 

She stepped out into the passage and locked the cham- 
ber door. 

And when soon afterward darkness drew on, obscuring 
all the passages and corners of the house, the familiar 
spirits of the family had much to whisper about. The old 
race of " Thuringian Fugger " had more than one depend- 
ence now a magnificently healthy scion had shot up beside 
that wretched little withered shoot, which the old stock 
and those old merchants who were still leaning against the 
Avails of the dark passage reproduced in portraiture, might 
well be proud, for that little fellow was really and truly of 
their kind, intelligent and full of vigor as they had been in 
their lives, collectively and individually. And in the 
warehouse this promising heir was sitting upon the knees 
of his aged grandfather, by the bedside of his convalescent 
grandmother, joy beaming from the eyes of the old people. 
Care and trouble were banished now; and what mattered 
it if, outside, the icicles glistened on the verge of the low 
roof, and a thick cushion of snow pressed against the win- 
dow-panes, if within doors an animating breath of spring 
pervaded the place. In the Dutch tile stove crackled the 
fire, and the subdued lamplight spread over every dear 
piece of old-fashioned furniture, and for the first time 
there came over the old people that snug home-feeling 
which is so delightful. Already they had felt themselves 
to be standing ready for exile into the wide, wide world, 
not knowing whither they should direct their own steps 
nor those of their disinherited grandson. 

But in the great house the waves which had been rolling 
mountain high on this eventful day were not laid so soon. 
Mrs. Counsellor had locked herself into her own room, and 
would let no one in. Her servants shook their heads in 
amazement at the old lady's deportment, who had come 
upstairs foaming with rage and full of gall and wormwood. 



?58 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

She had given orders that Mr. Herbert's supper be served 
to him alone, and after she had chidden her parrot as a 
hateful screamer she had retired to her bedroom and drawn 
the bolt on the inside. 

And Barbara would never have thought that she should 
live to see what this day had brought her to, viz., the con- 
fession that she was a good-for-nothing creature, not worthy 
of having the sun shine upon her. An hour ago she had 
come in, terrified from the fountain, and whispered to Aunt 
Sophie that she had seen Miss Gretchen standing, solitary 
and alone, at the window of the haunted chamber. Where- 
upon, such a lecture as Miss Sophie had given her upon 
her miserable superstition. Oh ! what a stupid blind old 
thing Barbara was. To think of her having taken dear 
Gretchen for the lady with the rubies, and having roused 
the who'e house with her shrieks, until that hard-hearted 
young man in the counting-room had been set upon his sis- 
ter. And oh! what bad, bad talk there had been! No, 
she was not really fit to have the dear Lord's sun shine 
upon her, and she would bite off her tongue sooner than 
have it utter one more word concerning that dreadful thing 
up in the passage. And so there she sat upon the kitchen 
bench with her head hidden in her apron, and crying as if 
her heart would break. 

Meanwhile Margaret and Aunt Sophie walked to and fro 
in the drawing-room. The young girl had thrown her arm 
around her aunt's waist, and told her of the mighty revolu- 
tion effected in her father's house. It was dark in the 
room; the blazing lamp had been sent away again directly. 
Nobody needed to see that the good aunt had been weep- 
ing; such an indulgence she allowed herself extremely sel- 
dom. But was it not a pity that this man had, side by side 
with her, silently borne his torturing grief? And there 
she had been enjoying her own life unconsciously, that such 
a tragedy was being played round about her. And that 
child, that splendid little fellow, had not been allowed to 
enter his father's house or eat at his father's table; how 
Baldwin's heart must have been torn! "Dear Heavenly 
Father! what will not men do and suffer for the sake of 
being accounted a little more or less, higher or lower!" 
said she in conclusion, as she wiped the last trace of tears 
from her face. " God has made them, like a peaceable 
race, without weapon of offense or defense; but lo! they 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 259 

sharpen their tongues into knives and forge iron panoplies 
for their hearts, until there is nothing like peace uoon 
earth." 

To-day, too, the storm passed by the com: Ling-room un- 
heeded. The young devotee to business sat behind his 
books and calculated. Little did he dream that his reck- 
oning was false; that the next thing would be a little finger 
knocking at the door of this counting-room to demand, for 
that hated little boy from the warehouse, admission a seat 
and voice all as a matter of fact. 



CHAPTEE XXVI. 

MRS. COUNSELLOR did not yield her point on the next 
day either. She was at home to nobody, so that only the 
chamber-maid durst intrude upon her privacy; and when 
her son came from his office in the middle of the day, and 
asked admittance, she sent word that her nerves had been 
so severely shattered that she absolutely required a few 
days of undisturbed repose. He shrugged his shoulders, 
and made no further attempt to penetrate into the self-im- 
posed exile of his mother. 

In the afternoon he came down to the first story. His 
horse stood ready saddled, and he was equipped for a ride. 

Margaret was alone in the drawing-room destined for 
her grandfather, and was just putting the last touches to 
its comfortable appointments. Late that afternoon she 
was to drive to Millbrook and return to town next morning 
with the patient. 

She had already seen Herbert once to-day. He had been 
quite early to the warehouse, and brought her morning 
greetings from her little brother and his grandparents, with 
the gratifying intelligence that yesterday's violent nervous 
excitement had not injured the sick lady in the least; but 
that, on the contrary, her convalescence was progressing 
rapidly to a perfect cure, as he had learned from her phy- 
sician. Now he came in to inspect the apartments once 
more. Margaret was just placing a beautiful antique chess- 
board belonging to the Lamberts underneath the rest for 
pipes. From the door he surveyed the extremely comfort- 
able room. 



260 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

" Ah! how cozy!" exclaimed he, coming nearer. " Our 
patient will not miss here his solitary lodgings in the pavil- 
ion ! We must nurse him together, and faithfully see after 
his health and entertainment; will that suit you, Mar- 
garet?" 

She had turned away, and was pulling at the folds of the 
nearest portiere, which were a little out of order. " I 
know of 'nothing more delightful than being with grand- 
papa," answered she, without looking around. " But my 
little brother has claims upon me, too, now; and whether 
grandpapa can not grow accustomed to his presence suffi- 
ciently to let him stay with me, where he is, is very ques- 
tionable. So, you see, I must divide my time between 
them." 

: " Quite right," he agreed. " And the question has one 
more side which is clear as daylight. Nothing is more nat- 
ural than for youth to consort with youth; we two old peo- 
ple my good papa and I can not demand of you such an 
utter sacrifice of self as to shut yourself up entirely with 
us. But let us make the bargain now and then we'll 
have a little chat with you in the evening, shall we not?" 

She turned to him with the ghost of a smile, and he felt 
for his beaver, which he had lain upon the table. His un- 
buttoned overcoat showed that he wore a faultlessly elegant 
dress suit. 

He noticed her chilled look of surprise. 

" Yes, a great deal lies before me to-day," said he, in 
explanation. " In the first place, I am commissioned to 
acquaint my father with this new turn in your family 
affairs, and then " he hesitated a moment, then added 
more quickly: " You are the first to learn it; not even my 
mother knows it yet. " 

" Then I am going to Prince's Court to the betrothal?" 

She grew deadly pale, and her right hand was involun- 
tarily lifted to her heart. " Then I may as well congratu- 
late you now," stammered she in spiritless tone. 

" Not yet, Margaret," said he turning away, and sud- 
denly his features too showed the traces of deep emotion; 
but he quickly suppressed it. " This evening, when I come 
to Millbrook on my way back to town, you shall have an 
opportunity of seeing ' uncle ' happy." 

He waved his hand back at her, and went out with hasty 
strides. Soon afterward she saw him ride away: she re- 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 261 

mained standing motionless at the window. Pressing her 
convulsively clasped hands against her breast she stared 
at the strip of sky that arched the broad market-place, and 
that was melancholy enough to-day as seen through a 
murky gray fog. The blood coursed wildly through her 
veins, and yet she felt deadly faint as though she had been 
cast down to the earth with a stroke. Yes, she had come 
to that! A few months before the world had seemed too 
contracted to her, with her presumption storming the skies, 
youthful exuberance of spirits and aspirations after free- 
dom; she had laughed at every fetter, and to-day in this 
wretched pygmy brain a single thought dominated, and 
her poor soul cleaved to the earth, with pitiable helplessness, 
as would make all those triumphant who hate and perse- 
cute proud souls, delighting in their abasement. But need 
the world know anything about the wounds that were now 
causing her such unutterable pain? Did not many go 
through life and take secrets with them into the grave, un- 
suspected by any living creature? And must she too find 
strength therefor? She must learn quietly to meet a pair 
of eyes that had the greatest power over her; she must 
attain to a degree of self-command that would enable her 
to have pleasant intercourse with a beautiful woman whom 
she abhorred, and to pass in and out in a home of which 
this woman was mistress, and to whom she must show 
respect, as her high-born aunt. 

Later she came down into the drawing-room, prepared 
for her drive to Millbrook. Aunt Sophie chid her for let- 
ting her coffee sit and leaving untouched the cakes, which 
the penitent Barbara had baked specially for her and her 
alone; but the young girl hardly heard what she said. She 
silently tied her hat-ribbons under her chin; then threw 
her arm around Aunt Sophie's neck, and there came over 
her a sudden weakness, namely the deep, longing wish to 
take refuge here, as she used to do in every distress of her 
childhood, and whisper into her aunt's ear what was agoniz- 
ing her whole being. She had always felt comforted after 
confiding in this faithful friend. But no, that would not 
do! Her aunt could not survive the sorrow of knowing 
that she was so unhappy! 

And so she closed her lips tightly and got into the car- 
re. 

the country was reached, she let down the glass 



262 THE LADY WITH THE KUBIES. 

window. From the south a soft breeze greeted her with 
that sweet breath which brought tears from the rigid ice, 
that frees bush and tree from their burden of snow, and 
infuses wondrous animation into all that lives and moves, 
including human hearts. There was a prospect of a 
thaw. And the first shades of evening were falling over 
the landscape as softly as the zephyr that fanned her 
cheek; the hard, uncompromising light of a wintery day 
had toned down to a tender neutral tint, whence emerged 
here and there lamplight from individual village houses. 
And there to the right were seen flickering lights, in pale 
gold splendor like a chain of pearls; they shone at the foot 
of the old nut-trees; the whole row of windows at Prince's 
Court was illuminated, wax lights were burning for the 
betrothal. 

She shrunk back into the furthest corner of the carriage, 
and not until Prince's Court had been left far behind, and 
the coachman had turned off from the high-road into the 
carriage road did she look up, and uncertainly, almost 
like a timorous child that seeks to assure itself that some 
hideous apparition has indeed vanished. 

Her grandfather received her with a joyful exclamation, 
and at the sound of that dear gruff voice she rallied and 
tried to return his greeting as naturally as possible. But 
the old gentleman himself was graver than common this 
evening. Between his brows lay a fold of brooding dis- 
content. He was not smoking, his favorite pipe leaned 
cold against the corner, and after his granddaughter had 
laid off hat and cloak, he resumed his pacing of the apart- 
ment, which had been interrupted by Margaret's arrival. 

' ' Well, to be sure, lady -bird, who would have thought 
it?" cried he, suddenly stopping in front of her. A 
fool, a confiding blockhead has your grandfather been not 
to have had his eyes more open than that. Here it comes 
like a summer hail-storm, out of a clear blue sky, and we 
stand and take it as if we were as well prepared as upon an 
April day, having to accept the gift and say ' yea and 
amen/ as if one had expected nothing else." 

She was silent and her eyes fell. 

" Poor little thing, how disturbed and miserable you 
look!" said he, while he laid his hand on the crown of her 
head, and turned her face to the lamp. " Well, isn't it a 
wonder? One must mak,e a virtue of necessity though and 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 263 

swallow the bitter pill in silence. But, I tell you what, it 
is more than enough to throw an old fellow like me off his 
equilibrium, while, bless me, there the child sits as meek 
and quiet as a lamb. How splendidly you bear it. Her- 
bert tells me that you worked bravely by his side, like a 
man, a good courageous fellow/' 

She turned red as fire, and looked at him as though 
starting out of a dream! He spoke of the revelations in 
her family, while she supposed his ire had been called forth 
by Herbert's betrothal. She was badly off. So exclusively 
was she possessed by one thought, namely what was | 
on over at Prince's Court, that everything else had 
into utter oblivion. 

" But mark my words, child!" he began again; " in a 
little while we shall long for a hollow tree in which to hide. 
The gossips will have their hands full, and it will be a 
matter of surprise to me if they do not employ a crier to 
proclaim upon the market-place the sensational happen- 
ings in the Lambert mansion. What matter though if 
they do! I never in all my life troubled myself over what 
was the town-talk, and after all the thing itself is bearable; 
only one thing I can not overlook and forgive; for shame 
upon the cowardice, the cruelty with which a father dis- 
owns his child, and " 

" Grandpapa!" interrupted Margaret pleadingly, laying 
her hand upon his mouth. 

" Now, now," growled he, pushing the little cold finger 
off his mustache, "I'll be still for your sake, Margaret. 
I do not want to make your life bitter through impertinent 
advice and officious lecturing, for you know best that you 
have a great deal to make up to that little fellow, wh'o 
chances to be an inmate of your house, and to that poor old 
fellow, May. I should just like to know how he could 
bring himself to hush up the matter so long and not insist, 
from the very first, upon the boy having his rights from 
that eh, your father. Ah, well, an artist, a soft, moon- 
shiny nature ! how should he assert himself and show fight." 

The superintendent's wife had laid out a beautiful little 
supper; but Margaret could not eat. She waited upon her 
grandpapa and talked, in a lively manner, while so doing, 
and after supper filled a pipe for him. Then she packed 
up his books in a trunk and collected everything needful 
for his departure next morning. She ran upstairs, down- 



264 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

stairs, and then stood still before a window in one of the 
unlighted rooms upstairs, and pressed both hands against 
her breast. Strangely near shone the blazing windows of 
Prince's Court, through the darkness of the night, and at 
this sight the last remains broke down of that self-control 
which she had maintained in her grandpapa's presence 
with almost superhuman effort. 

With a bitter cry of agony that came from the very 
depths of her soul, she threw herself down on the nearest 
sofa and buried her face in its cushions. And there 
moved victoriously before her the pictures from which she 
had longed to escape ! She saw glad, happy people throng- 
ing the brilliantly decorated rooms of that small palace, 
and the air was laden with the perfume of flowers, but 
above everything she saw the destined bride, that beautiful 
blonde who for the sake of love counted as naught the 
royal blood that ran in her veins, and cheerfully merged 
her proud name in that of a plain civilian. And the gen- 
tleman at her side she jumped up and fled from the room. 

Down-stairs sat her grandfather in his sofa corner behind 
the table. He had evidently become tranquilized, for he 
read the newspaper and smoked his freshly stuffed pipe. 

Margaret caught up her cloak. " I must have a little 
run in the fresh air, grandpapa!" called she from the door, 
to the reader. 

" Go, child," said he. " We have the south wind, that 
loosens the tight band drawn around nature, and straightens 
much of the mischief wrought by tierce Boreas, with those 
blasts of his blown directly from the North Pole. " 

She went out-of-doors, past the lake, that, hard-frozen 
beneath its snow-covering, was hardly distinguishable from 
the road. The lights in the factory buildings had been 
long since put out; it was still in the court-yard, and only 
the chained dog came out of his kennel and barked at her 
when the young lady passed through the gate. 

The thaw-wind whistled over the open fields beyond, 
for as night came on it had gradually increased to a storm; 
it played wildly with the wanderer's uncovered hair, but 
bathed her face, as it were, in soft, cool and caressing waves. 

It was very dark, not the least bit of starlight even 
twinkling down to earth; the heavens hung full of heavy 
low-lying clouds that would assuredly trickle down to-night 
in the form of a warm rain. Then would the melting be- 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 265 

gin in earnest, and kindly tears would drop from branch 
and bough, and take from the face of mother earth this 
white shroud. Yes, if one could just weep one's fill! But 
to have to look out upon a life of unuttered misery so, 
with dry, burning eyes! 

Whither would she go? Ever in the direction of that 
light, that fatal light, which lures the moth but to singe its 
wings and consume it. And although blazing flames 
from those windows should have attacked her, she could 
not have turned her back upon them! Further, further, 
even to death itself, if need be! 

She ran rather than walked along the firmly beaten path 
that traversed the arable land. The snow still crunched 
beneath her feet; hitherto that had been the only sound 
which broke upon the stillness of the night; but now, after 
the high-road too had been crossed, and the spacious 
flower-garden of Prince's Court spread out before her, the 
wind bore to her the sound of rich musical chords. The 
piano was being played in the palace. There sat the 
bride at the piano no gentle St. Cecilia with raptured 
countenance, far rather one of Rubens' blooming embodi- 
ments of voluptuous womanhood. The full suit of fair 
hair glittered in the light of the chandelier, and the beau- 
tiful taper fingers glided over the keys; but no, beneath 
her fingers the instrument could never have breathed forth 
such impassioned soul-stirring music; Heloise von Taube- 
neck played clumsily and without spirit as she had recently 
proved sufficiently. Who, then, could it be, who was per- 
forming, for he who played evidently had a share in the 
ceremonial taking place there this evening ? A very storm of 
exultation and enthusiasm was heard through the execution. 

Before the north front of the palace all was a mass of 
light. The broad grass-plot which was interspersed in 
summer with beds of variegated flowers was spotlessly 
white now, a glittering snow-field behind the trellis of 
running roses, that separated it from a broad gravel walk 
that stretched along, extending to the very walls of the 
house. This walk was tolerably clear of snow, only a thin 
crisp layer covering the gravel. 

Margaret had come hither, without having been alarmed 
by human approach. Now she moderated her pace, and 
passed along underneath the windows. What had she to 
do here? She hardly knew herself, a mysterious, fearful 



266 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

force impelled her hither like the storm driven before the 
wind; she had to run and look and still knew that the sight 
of the happy pair would pierce her heart as a deadly dag- 
ger-thrust. 

In the parlor where stood the piano the white roller 
curtains were lowered; not the shadow of a human form 
moved behind the transparent screen, for it seemed as if the 
company were held spell-bound by that masterly perform- 
ance. On the contrary, the three windows of the adjoin- 
ing apartment were not curtained, in the neighborhood of 
which the young girl had stood still. The light of the 
chandelier flowed unobstructedly through the panes of 
glass, and upon the portraits of princes that in the back- 
ground of the room looked down from the wall. It was 
the supper-room; here the betrothal feast had been served, 
and two lackeys were busied in clearing off the table. 
They held the half-emptied bottles to the light, and drank 
what was left from the wine-glasses. 

The concluding chords of the piece of music had long 
since died away, and still Margaret stood by one of the 
ball-acacias, which here and there interrupted the succes- 
sion of pillar-roses. The wind blew her hair back from 
her temples and brow, and now and then she was showered 
upon by snow loosened from the dry branches of the shrub. 
Sne did not feel it. Her heart hammered inside her chest, 
with difficulty she struggled for breath, while her hungry 
eyes wandered incessantly from one to the other of the un- 
curtained windows. She must see the happy pair just one 
time. Oh, what a little fool! To tarry persistently in cold 
and sleet, only to receive a deadly thrust! 

All of a sudden a door opened quite close to the end of 
the house-front. From a dimly lighted entry emerged a 
man, who came down the low flight of steps there while 
the door closed behind him. 

The eavesdropper stood for an instant as if petrified by 
terror. The rose-trellis hindered her from fleeing across 
the grass-plot, out into the darkness of the open field, and 
in front of her lay the long gravel walk illuminated till 
almost as bright as day. But there was no time for reflec- 
tion; she had been seen, and only her fleetness of foot could 
save her from undying humiliation. She fled like a thing 
pursued, along the gravel plot and over the ascent in front 



THE LADY WITH THE KUBtES. 20? 

of the western portal of the palace out into the open 
country. 

Here the wind hounded her, driving her before it like a 
snow-flake, and accelerating her flight; but neither the 
wind nor her own swiftness availed her aught. The steps 
of the man who pursued her came nearer and nearer. 
The path had become smooth and slippery; she suddenly 
glided off and sunk down upon one knee. At this moment 
of nameless horror, a strong arm seized and lifted her up. 

" I have caught you, mocking-bird!" cried Herbert, 
flinging his other arm, too, around the breathless maiden 
who was trembling in every limb. "Now see when Fll 
let you go! Never with my consent! The unwary mock- 
ing-bird who has flown into my snare belongs to me by 
every right, natural and spiritual. Is this really you, Mar- 
garet? Ah! she has come in storm and rain!" he recited, 
and restrained triumph was perceptible in his tone. 

She strove in vain to disentangle herself, but he em- 
braced her only the more closely. " Oh, me, I would " 

" I know what you would," cried he, interrupting the 
words she gasped forth almost tearfully. " You would be 
the first to congratulate uncle. That is the reason why 
you have encountered storm and tempest running through 
broad, bare fields, forgetting in your haste even to throw- 
ing a warm covering over that madcap head of yours, and 
after all your chase has been in vain, and your congratula- 
tions remain unspoken. Suppose, then, we turn back, 
and pay our respects to Prince Albert of X and his be- 
trothed. But, you see, your curls have been too familiar- 
ly tossed by the wind to admit of your appearing in a sa- 
loon just now." 

She had now succeeded in freeing herself. 
' " Your happiness makes you arrogant," she burst forth, 
In bitter indignation. " This is a cruel jest." 

" Softly, Margaret!" urged he, with gentle gravity, 
while he again drew her to his side, and held her struggling 
hand firmly in his own. " I am not jesting. Miss von Tau- 
beneck, after long hoping and waiting, has finally become 

the betrothed of the Prince of X and now there is no 

impropriety in telling that I have been the negotiator in this 
affair. The red camellia, with which you recently saw me 
decorated, was a token of gratitude for my efforts, which 
had been crowned with success. So you were grievously 



68 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

mistaken in your interpretation of its significance. On 
the contrary, I must admit the correctness of jour judg- 
ment. I am really arrogant. I am triumphant. Has 
not my happiness run into my arms of its own motion? 
Yes, have you not come on the wings of the storm, driven 
by that evil jealousy, that I long ago discerned in your 
heart? For you are the same sincere little Gretchen you 
always were, whose pure, candid nature no intercourse with 
the world can corrupt. Now, deny any longer, if you can, 
that you love me." 

" I do not deny it, Herbert." 

" God be thanked that he is buried, that old uncle! And 
henceforth you are not my niece, but " 

" Your Gretchen," she said, with faint voice, perfectly 
overcome by the abrupt alternation between joy and woe. 

"My Gretchen, my betrothed!" he pronounced with 
proud emphasis. " Now you will know, too, why I de- 
clined to become your guardian." 

He had long ago so place! himself that his tall figure 
protected her from the whistling wind; now he bent down 
and kissed her fervently, then he took the silk shawl from 
his neck, and tenderly tied it over her uncovered head. 

Rapidly now they proceeded together toward the factory; 
and as they went he told his hearer that he had formed a 

friendship at the university with the young Prince of X 

The latter was fond of him and depended much upon his 
judgment. About six months ago the younger brother of 
the prince had met Miss Von Taubeneck at her uncle's 
court, and fallen deeply in love with her. This affection had 
been reciprocated on her side, and her uncle, the duke, 
had approved. 

Her lover's princely brother, on the contrary, had decid- 
edly opposed the match, on the ground of the young 
lady's illegitimate birth. The duke had finally let Her- 
bert into the secret, and committed the matter to his medi- 
ation, and that the result had been fortunate the present 
festivities at Prince's Court prove. 

" Have you heard that wonderful performance on the 
piano?" 

She assented. 

" Well, that was the bridegroom, voicing his gladness to 
all the world. To-morrow our good town will be on its 
head from astonishment at this event. At both courts the 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 269 

strictest silence has hitherto been observed, and that I had 
to guard the secret just as jealously was a matter of course. 
I could not have been so successful, but for that silly re- 
port circulated of my suing for Miss Von Taubeneck's hand. 
But I have one more account to settle with you. You have 
decried me for an arch-villain, have said the bitterest 
things about my stooping to win princely favor; I was 
taken for one of those unscrupulous aspirants for office, 
who sought to attain the highest round of the ladder, over 
the necks of others, whether they are fit for high responsi- 
ble position or not, and other fine things of the sort you 
gave me credit for. What have you to say to that?" 

" Oh! a great deal!" answered she; and if it had not been 
dark night he must have seen how her face was brightened by 
that same sweet arch smile that had so surprised and enrapt- 
ured him upon his first meeting again with the " self-willed 
Gretchen." " Who deliberately strengthened me in the 
belief that the young statesman was wooing the duke's 
niece? Who but you? Who kindled the mean fire of jeal- 
ousy in a poor maiden's heart, and mischievously blew it 
into a bright blaze? You, nobody but you! And if in the 
beginning I could not believe that you felt love, true, 
deep love for the beautiful but horribly commonplace 
Heloise, this was through respect to your intellectual supe- 
riority; and so I, too, had to adopt the opinion of the 
wicked world that the white hands of our duke's niece were 
chosen to lift you to the highest step of the political lad- 
der, viz., the post of minister. I want to hear no more of 
apology. We are quits. You yourself have had full re- 
venge. Only think of the poor girl whom you have driven 
to take ' a trip to Canossa,' through the night and mist!" - 

He laughed softly to himself. " I could not spare you 
that. I have suffered myself in allowing it. And yet it 
was beautiful to observe how you kept coming nearer to 
me step by step. But now, enough of contention. Peace, 
blessed peace between us be!" He threw his arm around 
her shoulders, and now all went swimmingly. 

***** * + 

Next morning it was as if the good town of B had 

been suddenly startled by the blare of trumpets out of its 
accustomed round of work-a-day life. The rumor of the 
betrothal at Prince's Court ran from mouth to mouth; and 
that not a creature had uae faintest suspicion of it, yes, that 



3?0 THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 

even its little circle oi ladies, with their undisputed mo- 
nopoly for sagacity and combinations, had been so stone- 
blind, threw the people completely off their balance. 

Through her maid the alarming news came scalding hot 
to Mrs. Counsellor in her chamber. 

" Nonsense!'" cried the old lady contemptuously, put- 
ting both feet out of bed, however, and in a few minutes 
standing before her son in her gown and nightcap. 

" What means this silly talk about Heloise and the 
Prince of X- which the butcher and baker-boy are car- 
rying from house to house?" asked she, the door-knob in 
her hand. 

He jumped up from his study-chair and offered her his 
hand to conduct her further into the room; but she waved 
him back. " Let alone that!" said she hardly. " I have 
no intention of staying here. I only want to know how it 
is possible that such a groundless report could have origi- 
nated." 

He hesitated a moment. It grieved him that she must 
drain this bitter cup, although she had no one to blame for 
ib but herself; and yet he now said composedly, " Dear 
mamma, the people tell the truth; Miss von Taubeneck 
was most certainly betrothed last night to Prince Von 
X . 

The door-knob escaped her hand ; she almost fell to the 
floor. " True?" cried she, clasping her forehead, as 
though she doubted whether she were still in her senses. 
" Keally true?" repeated she, looking at her son with 
sparkling eyes; then she broke forth into a fit of hysterical 
laughter, and clapped her hands together. " Well, you 
have let them lead you about by the nose prettily!" 

He retained perfect composure. " I have not been led 
around, but, on tiie contrary, led the bridal pair together/' 
replied he, without evincing the least irritability; and in a 
few words explaining the linking together of events. 

While he spoke, she had continually turned more of her 
back to him, and kept biting her under lip. " And all 
this I learn now for the first time!" exclaimed she, with 
quivering lips after he had ended. 

" Could you wish that your son should have betrayed a 
secret confided to him? I did battle with your error as 
much as I possibly could ; I often enough explained to you 
that Miss Von Taubeneck was perfectly indifferent to me, 



THE LADY WITH THE EUBIES. 271 

and that I never meant to marry without love. For all 
these asseverations you never had any thing but a mysterious 
smile and shrug of the shoulders. " 

" Because I saw how Heloise always followed you with 
her eyes, and " 

He blushed like a girl. " And was not that only on one 
side? Can you affirm the same of me? Miss Von Taube- 
neck is conscious of her beauty, and coquets with every- 
body. Such glances are cheap; they make not the smallest 
impression upon me. But you should know that it is con- 
sidered a trivial matter in society for young ladies to amuse 
themselves in this way, and few esteem such little play 
with the eyes otherwise than admissible. Miss Von Taube- 
neck, in spite of all this, will make a good wife; her equable 
temper gives security for that. " 

Again the door fell to, and the old lady vanished into 
her own apartments once more with her pale, distorted 
face. But one hour later her maid was hurrying to the 
mantua-maker and milliner, while the man-servant was 
bustling about in the garret, and came down-stairs drag- 
ging after him various trunks and bandboxes. Mrs. Coun- 
sellor was going to Berlin to visit her sister. 

And when, toward noon, Mr. Counsellor arrived, and, 
leaning on his son's arm, mounted the frontdoor-steps lead- 
ing to the Lambert mansion, his wife was just coming down 
from above in her fur mantle, hat, and veil, in order to pay 
farewell visits in town. Everywhere she spoke of her 
long-cherished, ardent desire to hear once more some good 
operas and concerts, and now declared herself irresistibly 
attracted to Berlin. The event at Prince's Court was only 
casually touched upon, and treated smilingly as something 
long since known, and at which every loyal heart must, of 
course, rejoice; but to her most intimate friend she whis- 
pered that she could readily understand Prince Von X 's 

opposition in the beginning, for it was not everybody who 
cared to receive into their family the daughter of a ballet- 
dancer. With her departure came peace and quiet into 
the old house for a few days; but then came another storm 
that made the heart of every inmate to quake. Reynold 
had, at last, to learn the change which had taken place in 
the family affairs. His grandfather and Herbert had gone 
to work as cautiously as possible; but nevertheless their 
revelations had the effect of a bursting bomb. Reynold 



272 THE LADY WITH THE KTTBIES. 

fell into a frightful excitement. He shrieked, and raved, 
and launched forth into the most violent accusations against 
his deceased father. His passionate protest did no good; 
and finally he had to yield to his fate. But henceforth he 
withdrew himself even more than before from his family; 
he even eat alone in his room for fear of meeting his little 
brother in the sitting-room; for with "that fellow" he 
never, never would have anything to do, though he should 
live to be a hundred. 

For this expression the old family physician always had 
a melancholy smile. He best knew the little probability 
of his patient ever living to old age. He therefore urged 
his relations to show him every indulgence and forbear- 
ance; and this they cheerfully accorded him. 

Little Max never crossed his path. The door to the ware- 
house was not walled up, and furnished the ready means 
for lively intercourse between the front and rear houses. 
Old Mr. Counsellor had taken the fine boy to his heart as 
though he had been the child of his own daughter, and 
Herbert had become his guardian. 

As had been foreseen, the secret revealed concerning the 
Lambert affairs created a great stir both in town and 
country; it was the theme of conversation for many a long 
day in the clubs, the ladies' circles, and at the restaurants, 
and there were discussions pro and con. The Lamberts' 
names were indeed not allowed to rest for a long while. 
This war of words, however, held far aloof from the peace- 
ful precincts of grandpapa's room the red parlor where 
the whole family were accustomed to gather socially. They 
met there daily, a small circle of people, knitted together 
by fervent love and congeniality of dispositions. And upon 
this picture of concord between old and young " the lady 
with the rubies" looked down smilingly and radiantly. 

" The beauty of that woman up there is so demoniacal 
and haunting that one might feel a dread of her," said 
Mrs. May, one evening, turning pale as she made this re- 
mark to Aunt Sophie, who sat beside her on the sofa em- 
broidering Margaret's initials upon a napkin. A lamp 
stood upon the bureau beneath the portrait; and the young 
wife stood out from the canvas so speakingly in this stream 
of light that the next minute one expected her lips to open 
that she might join in the conversation. 

" This precious magic must have had its fatal influence 



THE LADY WITH THE RUBIES. 273 

upon my poor Blanche when she again went out into the 
world from here/' added the old lady with lowered voice. 
" She preferred, to any other ornament, the stones that 
glitter there in those raven tresses; and in her last fevered 
dream she wrestled with the beautiful Dora, who would 
take them with her." 

Herbert arose and pushed away the light, so that the 
picture retired again into obscurity. 

" I had those rubies in my hand to-day, and locked them 
up. They shall never be found in your hair," said he to 
Margare f . 

She smiled, " Do you think like Barbara?" 

" Not that; but I must think on ' the envy of the gods/ 
And so those unlucky red jewels may rest in peace for the 
future I" 

But almost at the identical hour Barbara said to the 
other servants down in the kitchen, " I do not at all like 
our young master having to go every day through that 
passage. That lady with the rubies had to take her young 
one into the earth with her; and seeing such a fine strap- 
ping lad to uphold the family stock will make her jealous." 

" Now, Barbara, you must straightway bite off your 
tongue!" said the man-servant. " You promised never 
again, while you lived, to mention the name of that creat- 
ure. " 

" Eh, what? one time is no time! It were best if that 
passage cculd be walled up; for who can know whether 
that flaxen-haired lady does not walk above ground along 
with the dark-haired one?" 

Faith in the powers of darkness will not die so long as 
the weak heart of man loves, hopes, and fears! 



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Lucile. By Owen Meredith. 


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A JAUNT THROUGH JAVA. The Story of a Journey to the 

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Admiral's Ward. By Mrs. Alexander. 
Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 
bachelor's Blunder, A. By W. E. Norris. 
Barbara Heathcote's Trial. By Rosa N. 

Carey. 

bondman. The. By Hall Caine. 
Broken Wedding Ring. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme. 
Captain of the Pole-Star. By A. Conan 

Doyle. 

Chandos. By " Ouida." 
Charles O'Malley. By Charles Lever. 
Cherry Ripe. By Helen B. Mathers. 
Children of Gibeon. By Walter Besant. 
Comin' Thro' the Rye. By Helen B. 

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Cradock Nowell. By R. D. Blackmore. 
Daughter of an Empress. By Louisa 

Muhlbach. 

Deemster, The. By Hall Caine. 
Dick's Sweetheart. By "The Duchess. 1 
Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. 
Dora Thome. By Charlotte M. Braeme. 
Duchess, The. By " The Duchess." 
East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood. 
Firm of Girdlestone. By A. Conan 

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First Violin. By Jessie Fothergill. 
For Faith and Freedom. By W. Besant. 
Sweetheart. By Rhoda 



Good-Bye, Sw 
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Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alexander. 
Heriot's Choice. By Rosa N. Carey. 
House of the Wolf. By S. J. Weyman. 
I Have Lived and Loved. By Mrs. 

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In the Golden Days. ByEdnaLyall. 
In the Heart of the Storm. By Maxwell 

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is Never Too Late to Mend. 
Charles Reade. 



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June. By Mrs. Forrester. 
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Lady Audley's Secret. By Miss M. E. 

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Lamplighter, The. By Maria S. Cummins. 
Lorna Doone. By R. D. Blackmore. 
Louise de la Valliere. By Alexandre 

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Madcap Violet. By William Black. 
Maid of Sker. By R. D. Blackmore. 
Man In the Iron Mask. By Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Marooned. By W. Clark Russell. 
Michael Strogoff. By Jules Verne. 
Midshipman Easy. By Captain Marryat. 
Mohawks. The. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 
Molly Bawn. By "The Duchess." 
Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile Gaboriau. 
Mrs. Geoffrey. By "The Duchess." 



My Lord and My Lady. By Mrs. 

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My Shipmate Louise. By W. C. Russell. 
Nellie's Memories. By Rosa N. Carey. 
Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa N. 

Old Myddleton's Money. By Mary Cecil 

Page of the Duke of Savoy. By Alex- 
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Pathfinders, The. By J. F. Cooper. 

Phyllis. By "The Duchess." 

Pioneers, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

Prairie, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

Princess of Thule. By William Black. 

Put Yourself in His Place. By Charlea 
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Queenie's Whim. By Rosa N. Carey. 

Repented at Leisure. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme. 

Robert Ord's Atonement. By Rosa N. 
Carey. 

Romance of Two Worlds. By Marie 
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Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

Second Wife. By E. Marlitt. 

Shadow of a Crime. By Hall Caine. 

Shandon Bells. By William Black. 

Springhaven. By R. D. Blackmore. 

Spy, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

Strathmore. By " Ouida. " 

Study in Scarlet. By A . Conan Doyle. 

Thelma. By Marie Corelli. 

Thorns and Orange Blossoms. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. 

Three Men in a Boat. By Jerome K. 



Jerome. 

Tents of Shem. 



By Grant Allen. 



Ten Years Later. By Alexandre Dumas. 
Tom Cringle's Log. By Michael Scott. 
Tricotrin. By "Ouida." 
Trumpet Major, The. By Thos. Hardy. 
Twin Lieutenants. By Alexandre Dumas. 
Two Admirals. By J. F. Cooper. 
Two on a Tower . By Thomas Hardy. 
Uncle Tom's Cabin. By Harriet B. Stowe. 
Under Two Flags . By " Ouida. " 
Vendetta. By Marie Corelli. 
Vicomte D'Bragelonne. By Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Wanda. By "Ouida." 
Wee Wifie. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. 

White Company. By A. Conan Doyle. 
White Wings. By William Black. 



Widow Lerouge. 
Won by Waiting. 
Wooing O't, The. 



Emile Gaboriau. 
Edna Lyall. 



Wooing O't, The. By Mrs. Alexander. 
Wooed and Married . By Rosa N . Carey. 
Wormwood. By Marie Corelli. 
Wreck of the Grosvenor. By W. Clark 

Russell. 
Yolande. By William Black. 

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1 A Romance of Two "Worlds. By 


26-Springhaven. By R. D. Black- 


Marie Corelli. 


more. 


2 Lorna Doone. By R. D. Black- 


27 Yolande. By William Black. 


more. 




3 The Wreck of the Grosvenor. By 


26 Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E, 


W. Clark Russell. 


Braddon. 


t The First Violin. By Jessie 
Fothergill. 


29 Consuelo. By George Sand. 


*-The Bride of the Nile. By George 


30 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. By 


Ebers. 


Rosa N. Carey. 


6 The White Company. By A. 


31 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 


Conan Doyle. 


lins. 


7 On the Heights. By Berthold 
Auerbach. 


32 Wormwood. By Marie CorellL 


S It is Never too Late to Mend. By 


33 A Study in Scarlet. By A. Conan 


Charles Reade. 


Doyle. 


9 The Maid of Sker. By R. D. 
Blackmore. 


84-Airy Fairy Lilian. By "Th 
Duchess." 


10-Thelma. By Marie Corelli. 


35 The Burgomasters Wife. By 
George Ebers. 


11 Uarda. By George Ebers. 


36 Twenty Years After. By Alex- 
andre Dumas. 


13 For Faith and Freedom. By 


37-My Lord and My Lady. By Mrs. 


Walter Besant. 


Forrester. 


13 Far from the Madding Crowd. 
By Thomas Hai-dy. 


38-Jack's Courtship. By W. Clark 
Russell. 


14 The Three Guardsmen. By 


39 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emilo 


Alexander Dumas. 


Gaboriau. 


15 File No. 113. ByEmile Gaboriau. 


40 A Pair of Blue Eyes. By Thomas 


16 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 


Hardy. 
41-Old Myddelton's Money. By 


ander. 


Mary Cecil Hay. 


17 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt. 


42 The Story of a Clergyman's 
Daughter. By W. Heimburg. 


l&-Shandon Bells. By William 


43-WestwardHo. By Charles Kings- 


Black. 


ley. 


19-Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 


44 Charles O'Malley. By Charles 
Lever. 


30--The Bondman. By Hall Caine. 


46 Donovan. By Edna Lyall. 


21--Under Two Flags. By " Ouida." 


46 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 




lotte M. Braeme. 


22- Phyllis. By " The Duchess." 


47 Donal Grant. By George Mac- 
donald. 


231 have lived and loved. By Mrs. 


48-The Second Wife. By E. Marlitt 


Forrester. 




24 The Countess of Rudolstadt. By 


49-Comin 1 Thro' the Rye. By Helen 


George Sand. 


B. Mathers. 


25 The Silence of Dean Maitland. 


50 John Halifax, Gentleman. By 


By Maxwell Grey. 


Miss Mulock. 



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51 The Trumpet-Major. By Thomas 


76-Hypatia. By Charles Kingsley. 


Hardy. 




58 Wanda. By "Ouida." 


77 The Wooing O't. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 


53 Put Yourself in His Place. By 


78-The Moonstone. By Wilkie Col- 


Charles Reade. 


lins. 


54-Marooned. By W. Clark Russell. 


79 Children of Gibeon. By Walter 


55 The Prime Minister. By Anthony 


80 Vendetta, or The Story of One 


Trollope. 


Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 


56-Saint Michael. By E.Werner. 


81 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 




more. 


57 East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry 


82 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 


Wood. 


Lever. 


68-The Heir of Redclyffe. By Char- 
lotte M. Yonge. 


83 My Shipmate Louise. By W. 
Clark Russell. 


59-Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa 


84 The Man in the Iron Mask. By 


N. Carey. 


Alexandre Dumas. 


60 The Vicomte de Bragelonne. By 


85 Won by Waiting. By Edna Lyall. 


Alexandre Dumas. 




61 We Two. ByEdnaLyall. 


86 Tricotrin. By " Ouida." 


62 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 


87 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. 


more. 




63-The Admiral's Ward. By Mrs. 


88 Kit and Kitty. By R. D. Black- 


Alexander. 


more. 


64 The Deemster. By Hall Caine. 


89 Robert Ord's Atonement. By 




Rosa N. Carey. 


65 Ten Years Later. By Alexandre 


90 Shirley. By Charlotte Bronte. 


Dumas. 




66 A Princess of Thule. By William 


91 A Bachelor's Blunder. By W. 


Black. 


E. Norris. 


67-Her Only Brother. By W. Heim- 
burg. 


92 Thorns and Orange Blossomg. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. 


68 The Tents of Shem. By Grant 


93 In the Golden Days. By Edna 


Allen. 


Lyall. 


69 Two on a Tower. By Thomas 


94 The Squire's Legacy. By Mary 


Hardy. 


Cecil Hay. 


70 An Egyptian Princess. By George 


95 No Name. By Wilkie Collins. 


Ebers. 




71 Mrs. Geoffrey. By " The Duchess. 


96-Mohawks. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don. 


72 A Hardy Norseman. By Edna 


97 Nellie's Memories. By Rosa N. 


Lyall. 


Carey. 


73 Louise de la Valliere. By Alexan- 


98 The Emperor. By George Ebers. 


dre Dumas. 




74-The Weaker Vessel. By David 


99 Dick's Sweetheart. By "The 


Christie Murray. 


Duchess." 


75-Very Hard Cash. By Charles 


100 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. Black- 


Reade. 


more. 



For sole by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or win be sent post-paid on 
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York, Price 25 cents per copy. 



THE MANHATTAN LIBRARY. 

New Series. Standard Works. Popular Authors. 

Each Number Complete in One Volume. 
Price 25 cents per copy. 

The numbers in this series will be published weekly, well printed on good paper, 
bound with neat paper covers, and sewed in the back, so each book will open flat. 



101 Micah Clarke. By A. Conan Doyle. 


126 St. Katherines By the Tower. By 




Walter Besant. 


102~Good Luck. By E. Werner. 


127 Cloister and the Hearth. By 





Charles Reade. 


103-Love Me Little, Love Me Long. 


128 The Countess Gisela. By E. Mar- 


By Charles Reade. 


litt. 


104 Strathmore. By "Ouida." 


129 The Duchess. By "The Duchess." 


105 In the Counselor's House. By E. 


130 Cousin Pons. By Honore De 


Marlitt. 


Balzac. 


106- Wooed and Married. By Rosa N. 


131-In Far Lochaber. i By William 


Carey. 


Black. 


107-Cherry Ripe. By Helen B. Math- 


132-A Broken Wedding Ring. By 


ers. 


Charlotte M. Braeme. 


108 The Shadow of a Crime. By Hall 
Caine. 


133 The Page of the Duke of Savoy. 
By Alexandre Dumas. 


109 The Woodlanders. By Thomas 


134 The Captain of the Pole-Star. By 


Hardy. 


A. Conan Doyle. 


110 Queenie's Whim. By Rosa N. 


135-Heriot's Choice. By Rosa N. 


Carey. 


Carey. 


Ill Matrimony, By W. E. Norris. 


136-In the Schillingscourt. By E. 
Marlitt. 


112 The Sin of Joost Avelingh. By 


137 Dora Thome. By Charlotte M. 


Maarten Maartens. 


Braeme. 


113-Fair Women. By Mrs. Forrester. 


138 The Firm of Girdlestone. By A. 




Conan Doyle. 


114- White Wings. By Wm. Black. 


139 The Lady with the Rubies.' By E. 

Marlitt. 


115 Armorel of Lyonesse. By Walter 


140 The Reproach of Annesley. By 


Besant. 


Maxwell Grey. 


116 Pere Goriot. By Honore De 


141-Moths. By "Ouida." 


Balzac. 




117-The Executor. By Mrs. Alex 


142 Tempest-Tossed. By Theodore 


ander. 


Til ton. 


118 The Arundel Motto. By Mary 


143-The Woman in White. By Wilkie 


Cecil Hay. 


Collins. 


119 Othmar. By "Ouida." 


144 The Hunchback of Notre Dame. 




By Victor Hugo. 


120-Chandos. By "Ouida." 


145-Tom Cringle's Log. By Michael 




Scott. 


121-Cripps the Carrier. By R. D. 


146-Clara Vaughan. By R. D. Black- 


Blackmore. 


more. 


122-June. By Mrs. Forrester. 


147 In the Heart of the Storm. By 




Maxwell Grey. 


123- Wee Wifle. By Rosa N. Carey. 


148-A March in the Ranks. By Jessie 




Fothergill. 


124 The Twin Lieutenants. By Alex- 


149-Molly Bawn. By "The Duchess." 


andra Dumas. 




125 Good-Bye, Sweetheart. ByRhoda 


150-Madcap Violet. By William 


Broughton. 


Black. 



For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent post-paid on 
feceipt of price by the publisher, A., L. BVRT, 97 Reade Street, Kent 
fork. Price 25 cents per copy. 



